


I See Many Ghosts

by Tea_Queen_2112



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a sort of happy ending, Bisexual Robb, Bisexual Theon, Characters die, Crying, F/M, Faith of the Seven, Fix-It of Sorts, Jealousy, Jeyne is a gift, Lot and lots of crying, M/M, Occasional fluff, Other characters pop up from time to time, Past Abuse, Post - Red Wedding, Pre-Red Wedding, Robb Stark is a Gift, Slow Burn, Thramsay - Freeform, Torture to the 11th degree, and, reincarnation sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-21
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-06-13 18:20:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 21
Words: 157,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15370539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tea_Queen_2112/pseuds/Tea_Queen_2112
Summary: Theon Greyjoy has been granted a second chance at life. After he died at the hands of his manic uncle the gods want to give him another chance to make other decisions. Decisions he wished he had made the first time around.He can go back and fix the mistakes of his past.Along the way, he sees many familiar faces of those who have gone, some of whom are still alive. In the beginning, he thinks that it's easy to fix the errors of the past but the more he fixes the more problems he faces. With a young Lady Poole helping him along the way he must face the past and fix all that was wrong.





	1. The God's Halls

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back baby. Welcome to my book/Tv combination. I worked my butt off for this one so I hope you all enjoy. Will be beta-ed eventually...

Theon Greyjoy had very little belief in things in his life.

He was much like Tyrion Lannister in the regard that they tended not to believe in something unless they witnessed it with their own eyes. Of course he had believed in the gods for a time in his life. 

As a boy in Winterfell he was forced to convert to the traditions of the Old Gods and the New. 

He was converted back to the Drowned God after his baptism. 

With his torture came a disbelief. After his time as a prisoner he lost all faith in everyone and anything. He worshipped a false god of blood and knives. In fact, the only one he had any belief in was his sister. His sister who followed their religion to the exact wording. 

 

“What is dead may never die.” 

 

The words of the house rang true when he was alive. They used to say that what is dead may never die but he never expected the saying to have much truth to it. Now he was finding out that just how much it really was all true. 

 

He had seen the dead come back to life but not in the way he was currently experiencing it.   
For Theon Greyjoy had died twice in his life. 

 

Once with the Bastard of the Dreadfort and then again in battle with the Captain of the Silence. Out of all the times he thought he would die and it was the way he expected least. He was glad of it though, dying with some honour. He had always thought that for the longest time he would have died as Ramsay’s obedient servant. 

 

Theon placed his hand over where the fatal blade had struck his heart, his death had been swift and just. There had been virtually no pain and it was rather quickly. 

 

It had been at the hands Euron. It had been poetic to die by the hands of a family member. Always his fucking uncle. He couldn’t have died peacefully at an old age or executed for his crimes at Winterfell by the rightful ruler who he assumed would be the bastard wolf turned rightful Dragon, no it had to be by the person who he wanted to kill him least of all. If one good thing came from the whole thing was that he had given him the privilege of dying in Pyke. His birth home.

 

He had been chilled to the bone if he remembered correctly. Cold water ravishing his body but the water soon froze and turned to ice. 

 

The war with the fight walkers had come sooner than expected to the Iron Islands and he had died to protect his older sister, a slight change in the dynamic between them. There had been a scuffle so he had no idea if she had managed to get away or not but he hoped that his death had not been in vain and there was also the minor hope that Euron had gotten his ugly mug eaten in by a Wight. 

 

Then again his death was a long time coming. It had been due ever since he betrayed the Starks. Since he betrayed Robb. Yara had tried to tell him that he didn’t owe anything to the Starks but of course this wasn’t true in Theon’s broken eyes. Ramsay had made him die in a sense but then something amazing had happened. He was reborn the moment he took Sansa’s hand and jumped down from the Winterfell wall. Then he had been on a path which he assumed was the right way. 

 

Reek wasn’t gone right away. It had been slow and laborious but in the end, they had managed to find middle ground with reek. Theon was back in the reigns but if there was true danger Reek would take over but only in the direst of situations.

 

He preferably would have liked to have lived and gone on to see Yara at her rightful place as the Queen of the Iron Islands however it was not to be. Wherever she was he was sure that she was living peacefully with whatever woman had captured her heart, maybe Sansa or maybe Ellaria. It was a shame it had not been the Dragon Queen who took her hand but she was sure someone more reliable and less insane would have come along, one who filled her days with happiness. 

 

While he knew the blow to the chest had ended his life he found it unusual he was still able to think about all of these things. His thoughts were still going at a million miles a second. He couldn’t be dead for he still felt things. At the moment he felt like he was drowning. If he did regret one thing it was not dying by the sea like he always intended. Had his half-dead body somehow found its way to the ocean and he was simply floating? That he did not know. It felt like water. 

 

One thing he was certain of was the blinding light that overtook his vision. 

 

Theon opened his eyes which he never thought that he would do again. The sight was not what he expected. His body was lying on the floor by the floor was clean, like a grand hall such as the main Winterfell Hall or the Salt throne room. Wherever he was it was clear a place of a person of a high status. His thoughts were now along the line that Daenerys had somehow rescued him from his dying fate. But then why leave him on the floor with no medical aid. And why was his pain suddenly gone? 

 

Speaking of maesters he felt his chest where the pain had been and…Nothing. There was no pain of a blade still planted firmly inside, no stinging from the salt water or creatures of the ocean using him as a source of food. Things were not adding up and his mind was still trying to properly figure out what the hell was going on. 

It was groggy. Or foggy maybe. He wasn’t sure. It seemed to be a mixture for sure. His eyes had a struggle of their own to begin opening up. 

 

He reached a hand down his chest and sure enough he wound was still there but the more he poked the less and less he could feel. 

 

When his mind was waking up from whatever darkened slumber it was in it fully saw where he was located and it made less sense than anything he could begin to imagine. Such grandeur and majesty. It could only be one thing. He was merely a grain of sand on a beachside. 

 

That was how small he felt in comparison. 

 

There were some stained glass windows. Seven to be exact. Each one having a very specific colour scheme with a figure on it, they ranged from tall and strong to short and slim. One stained glass window was bursting with light pastel colours while another one was completely drenched in the darkest of colours. It was upon further inspection that he then came to the realization that these were no ordinary stained glass windows for these were religious windows. The ones he had seen in the Gods halls at Winterfell. 

 

He raised himself from the ground and looked around, trying to catch his breath as he realised that this was going to be the day he was dreading since the moment he burned those two innocent children. He spun around and his vision was blurred for a moment as he took everything in. 

 

He was finally going to face the gods for his crimes. Out of all the things that he wanted to face his final judgement had been the one he was least looking forward to. He could already see what they were going to say to him. Something probably along the lines of “You are to be condemned to the seven hells.” It would be fitting for him.

 

He stopped turning when he came face to face with a tall wooden table. It was rather like a criminals trial stands. He was very surprised when he felt no chains dragging his wrists down. He knew what those felt like all too well. Perhaps they wouldn’t put him and chains and would get right on with his punishment. 

 

He quickly turned and when he looked up and sure enough seated before him were the faith of the seven. From his view of the room he was but an ant to the giants who stood before him. He kneeled down quickly knowing who they were and he began to pray silently for their forgiveness. He was in the presence of the Seven Gods. 

 

All of them were there and he could name them all if he had wanted to but he felt like he should let them speak first for fear of their mighty wrath. He had believed in the drowned god for a good majority of his life up until the Bolton happened so he wasn’t sure what they had in store for him.

 

From what he could see the Father was sitting right in front of him and he was the largest of them all. On the table in front of him he had a giant pair of scales and from what Theon recalled the Father was the one he had to fear most as he was justice ordinated. His figure reminded him somewhat of Ned Stark, he was strong with a power that seemed to dominate the entire hall. 

 

On the opposite side of his thinking, he was also reminded of his true blood father. He was much like Balon in that he terrorized the absolute shit out of him. He was also very burly with a big bushy beard that somehow made him command power over everyone else in the room despite them all being gods with probably the same amount of authority. 

 

In a weird sense he got a sense of relief knowing that he had pretty much been through all types of torture before so anything the gods did with him would be familiar to him. At one point he wouldn’t have been surprised if Ramsay was sitting here alongside them as after all Ramsay had forced Theon to worship him like one. Well it was either that or breaking his teeth for fun.

 

For the first time since he awoke one of them filled the room with sound. 

 

“You are standing before the Faith of the Seven. What is your name?” The booming voice of the father told him. His voice was even like that of Ned Starks. It demanded so much power, so much respect. Things that Theon himself was forced to earn. 

 

“Theon. Of house Greyjoy.” He said in an attempt to not sound like he was frightened out of his mind. He hated the thought of being called a coward in the afterlife as well as in his previous life. His voice hadn’t cracked like that since he had shown his weakness before his master. 

 

“Do not be afraid Theon of House Greyjoy you are welcomed into the Hall of the Seven.” The Mother said speaking up. The mother was like every lady he had ever seen in his life and more. Her eyes contained such a motherly quality that made Theon feel like he was still a helpless child in front of her. She held power but something different from the father. She was caring and was capable of making his stress disappear. 

 

Her hair may have been hidden by a small headpiece but he was sure that if she were to wear it down it would be a glowing golden colour. The colour of the sun and the freshest of flowers. They all looked upon him for a silent period of time. He didn’t know exactly what they were doing but he could tell it was thorough. Perhaps they were judging him now. 

 

“I have decided.” The Father spoke up looking down on him. Theon knew his judgement was coming and he was prepared for the worst. To suffer in the seven hells for his crimes. He was ready to be judged. 

 

“In your former life you were always conflicted about who you should side with. Stark or Greyjoy. Your conflict caused you to suffer greatly and though you have done evil you have truly repented for your crimes and shown yourself to be worthy of getting another chance. You know truly what you have to choose. Now we will give you a chance to prove yourself true of judgement. ” 

 

Theon did not think that any of this was real. It was all some elaborate dream. The axe had just missed his heart by a slim chance and he was unconscious from all of the blood loss. That seemed to be the most logical explanation in this scenario. He might have been delirious from a fever or something. It must have been something else. Anything besides judgement would have been better than this. 

 

“I do not deserve it. I sent two boys to you before their time was done.” He knew exactly what the gods were talking about but Theon knew that he was not worthy of such a kind gift. He swung his arms down by his side.

 

“Their time was nearly done anyway. The Drowned God has spoken a couple of words on your behalf and has told us you have indeed paid the iron price for your sins. What is dead may never die but rise again stronger and harder and that you have done.” This time it was the Crones time to speak. The way she looked reminded him of his own mother. She had whitened hair and carried a lantern. Much like his own mother had done on countless nights after his capture by the Baratheon usurper. This was all according to what Yara had told him on the boat ride to Volantis. 

 

Theon looked around the room to see if he could see the drowned god. He could see the purest Maiden, the warrior with his helmet filled with battle damage but still somehow untouched and the Smith with his face blackened from the cinders of the anvil. He could not see his own ex-god but if what they were saying was true then it meant that every man’s concept of religion was technically right.

 

“There are multiple gods?” 

 

Disbelief was present of course. Was this perhaps a type of Arya thing where she worshipped the many faced god? He was getting confused as to how this worked. 

 

“All gods live in harmony with each other. We all exist.” The father spoke and he could see the change upon the young lads face. Firs his face scrunched up trying to think about everything but then he let it go. He knew that questioning it would only make him angered. 

 

‘Literal wars had been waged over this.’ Theon thought as he looked around once more. People had died because they believed that their gods were the superior ones when it turned out that all of them were right in a sense. Anger disappeared when he realised they could probably read his inner thoughts like the pages of a book. 

 

Theon gulped. That meant that all the gods had all witnessed his horrific crimes in his life. It was bad enough that the seven had seen but now apparently so had a few of the others had too. More gods knew what a terrible person he was. It was at this point he thought it best to ask where his previous god was at this moment. “Where is the drowned god? If you don’t mind me asking.”

 

“As I’m sure you know the war with the dead is raging and he is trying to answer all the prayers of the Ironborn sailors out at sea. Including your sister. He would have been the one to greet you.” The mother explained. She conjured up his image to see the drowned god working from beneath the waves as the dead began to walk over the frozen water. 

 

Theon could see sailors of many descriptions being burned by the ice dragons. Some were fighting the white walkers while others were trying to defend other armies with their shields. It was a beautiful display of men working together instead of fighting each other but still, the horror was still going on behind them and he could see that they were dying. 

 

Dying then being resurrected again as the zombie-like figures. Theon shuddered upon seeing them again. One could never truly come to terms with seeing them as each one had a level of grotesque looks about them. The fresher ones were a little bit easier to look at however the ones that had been decaying for long were the worst. And Theon didn’t even want to think about the stench they brought with them. 

 

Decaying flesh was never a pleasant smell. No matter how many flowers they could try and hide it with it would still skink to the highest heavens.

 

This only seemed to confuse the Greyjoy even more. The Seven was the most popular religion in all of the seven kingdoms so how the Drowned God was more popular was a mystery he wouldn’t be able to solve on his own. Then it dawned on him that King’s Landing was the most popular practice of the Seven, so by logical reasoning, something must have happened to King’s landing. 

 

“Shouldn’t you all be busy as well with the war?” Theon asked not meaning to pry but just generally curious. 

 

The Father sighed. “After Cersei of House Lannister blew up the sept of Balor she outlawed all religion concerning the seven after the High Sparrow incident. Anyone found practising it could be brought in for a reward from the crown. Of course, people still believe in the North but it is significantly less now with the death toll rising. Many people are too busy preparing that they don’t have time to even think about us or say their prayers. People like your sister and Melisandre still pray to their gods daily.” The Father sounded like he didn’t have any control over it. 

 

They were gods but not even they could have known what was in store when they decided to create Cersei Lannister. They could never have known what she was going to do to them. How she would snap and take over everything. The gods hated planned for her children to die so she planned to kill the god in order to return the favour. 

 

You see the way the gods worked was as follows. They would make people and give them their personalities but they would let them choose their own paths and interact with each other. Almost like a self-aware dolls house. The gods were simply the children who were watching this all play out. This was their entertainment. 

 

Theon was trying his hardest to give his condolences with an unhappy face but with the news of his sister being alive he was filled with happiness. This had confirmed that his sister had managed to survive the attack on Pyke and escaped with her life intact. The Greyjoy legacy would live on but then again it would continue regardless of who won. He wanted to tell the gods to give a message of thanks to the drowned god but he was not ready to see what would happen if he demanded something of a god with him being a mere mortal. 

 

The Father stroked his beard as he looked Theon over. It was clear he had a lot to say to him. Theon was noticing the lack of scolding but he was awaiting every second for it. Like so many times it would start fine but then it would just go so much worse. 

 

“The Drowned God and the Stranger both seem to like you very much Greyjoy.” The father commented as his mighty scales dipped down towards the cloaked figure at the end of the table. Theon could only look at him for a second before a terrible sense of dread began to fill his mind. Everything about him just emitted the feeling of something not quite being right, like a chilly wind on what was otherwise a pleasant day. 

 

Theon did not know much about the seven gods but he did know about the basic traits of them thanks to Maester Luwin and the stranger was considered the oddball of the seven gods. 

 

Strangers often associated with him the most. The thing with the Stranger was that it was death incarnate, supposedly. Theon supposed he and death always had a complex relationship seeing as he was always so close yet never quite dying. The good people of Westeros rarely prayed to the Stranger, even going as far as to remove him from several songs. Every day of his torture with Ramsay and when he was first Reek he would pray to the Stranger to end his torment once and for all. Then again he prayed to any god who would listen. After a year he accepted that there could be no such thing as a god. 

 

The stranger lifted up his hood for Theon to get a true glimpse of his face and it was amazing how Theon was keeping his shock hidden so well. He was a skeleton of sorts but somehow his presence was more refined and almost calming, alluring in some regards. Like a rose, it was sharp and could cause pain but the idea of it was so tempting one could not help themselves. 

“You are being given a second chance to go back and make the choices that will make you happy.” The maiden stated. Her voice was high pitched but she was a young lady who knew what she was doing. 

 

A second chance? It was far too good to be true. There was a trap, there always had to be a trap. He had so thoroughly convinced himself that he didn’t deserve it that his mind went straight to thinking that the gods were deceiving him. Of course, since they were gods they knew what he was thinking and the maiden put his fears to rest. She had a face that everyone could trust. Theon bowed before speaking to them. He was so far down he was convinced that he would have to shout for them to hear what he was saying. “With all due respect, I have done nothing worthy of such a privilege.” 

 

They spoke yet again and made sure that Theon as listening with his fullest attention.   
“With all due respect Theon Greyjoy you have done what most people fail to do. Take responsibility for their actions and for that we have decided to give you this chance. Cersei Lannister, Daenerys Targaryen, Sandor Clegane. All of them have murdered innocents and none of them have ever felt remorseful about it. They will face a harsher judgement.”

 

The Smith, he noted, had remained quiet up to this point. Then again he didn’t suspect he had much to say to him. After all, the Smith was heavily referenced to strength and that was something Theon was lacking mentally. He had tried praying to the smith to make him stronger in his darkest hour but it seemed unheard until now

 

“And you’ve done good things as well do not forget. You risked your life for Lady Sansa Stark. You fought Hagar to save your sister and you died saving her from that Madman Euron. 

 

Theon had no idea how to respond. The gods had forgiven him for his crimes when he couldn’t’ even forgive himself. It was impossible. Everyone told him he was going to burn in the seven hells for the choices he made. He should be doing that right now. Letting go of the past was not something Theon had learned to do very well. 

 

They continued in their explanation. 

 

“The Drowned God has chosen an accomplice to go with you. There are certain rules that must be kept in order as I’m sure you guessed. You may not know her but she knows all about you.”  
Just as she was speaking he could see a small mural of the drowned god appearing behind her. The drowned god did not look as he expected. 

He was a giant of a man. 

Or at least he assumed that was what a man had looked like. He was half kraken as well. His bread has begun as various blue hairs however it soon dissolved into a whole array of tentacles which fell down to his knobbly knees. He was a man who had the look of a mad dog in his eyes. He was a man who would refuse to be tamed. No mortal man would be able to tell him what to do. 

 

Theon averted his eyes from the painting. He didn’t want to look at what he was supposedly worshipping. He got a chilling feeling from the picture alone and he didn’t want to look at it any longer then he had to. It was all in the eyes. Those eyes which seemed like they had madness in them. Not the Bolton madness but rather a mad king type of madness. 

 

This was cryptic but he was still petrified that he would interrupt them. He did pick up on the “She” part of that sentence but his chapped, rigid lips remained tightly sealed.

 

“What are these basic rules?” Theon would follow them to the very letter for fear of what the gods would do if they disobeyed. 

 

“You cannot tell anyone of the fate of the wedding between Edmure Tully and Roslin Frey. Do you understand this?” The Father spoke knowing what the sentence meant to him.   
The wedding of those two people was the….Theon then realized what would happen. He backed away at that moment and put a hand to his mouth before even the smallest of gasps could escape him. His mind wasn’t going to let him believe it. With the choices, he would make meant he was going to die at the Red Wedding. Like he always wanted to. Of course, he understood why he wouldn’t be able to share. If anyone found out the gods would surely punish him for it so his head nodded to tell them yes. 

 

They could see how painful it was for him but if they didn’t want to waste any more time with this. Without giving him a moment to breathe they went on speaking. The temperature of the room dropped considerably as the next few words were spoken.

 

The next set of rules were to follow. 

 

“You will bear the scars from your previous life.” The Smith said oddly instead of the Father. Perhaps because the smith had a multitude of scars on his own hands presumably from his craft. 

 

His hands were black and marked but they didn’t seem to bother him in the least. In fact, he seemed to take great pride in his scars. The sweat upon his brow also told a great deal about his character. He was the hardest working of all of them and seemed to take matters into his own hands when things were called for.

 

Theon cared least the smith as he never saw anything of him in the smith. He was strong like he was. The Smith didn’t care much about Theon but since the father needed all of them to be where he was forced to come along. Then again this trial wasn’t totally wasted on him. He was promised that he would get to show off a knife and he was always happy to do that. 

 

A moment was all it took for Theon to turn from his complicit nodding and understanding to his almost angered yet confused expression. He looked down upon all of his old scars. Too many to remember where or when he got them, almost all from Ramsay but the biggest one was given to him by his beloved uncle Euron. 

 

Theon wanted to rage. His lungs wanted to exasperate all the air contained within them and yell profanities at the gods for always dealing him this shit hand in life. But therein lay the problem. They were gods. They could be killing him right now and they wouldn’t have to think twice about it. He controlled himself. Control was a funny word to Theon. 

 

There always had to be someone controlling him. 

 

Instead of losing his cool he would go the way that Sansa would go. Diplomatic. Using words instead of emotional tactics. She had been doing well last he heard. She had been herald as Queen in the North after Jon had consummated his marriage to Daenerys. It was the only fitting thing to happen. Sansa deserved it after everything. She could be in control for once, no longer being used as pawns for everyone else. 

 

“What? Why? You’re giving me a second chance before….Ramsay. Surely I would be able to have them healed.” He had gotten good at building himself up so he could say the name without panicking too much. His hand made its way to his chest where it nearly fell into the gash that had been made there by the Kraken themed axe. It was gaping open like a deep sea trench yet not a single drop of blood dared leak out. He was still emotional about it but the gods seemed not to care about it. 

 

It only seemed like an hour ago that he had been murdered. Sort of a lot to take in.   
Euron had little mercy in his attack, even going so far as to wear Bolton armour to throw him off. It had worked perfectly. Theon had seen the X at the moment of the kill and his hesitation had cost him his very life. He didn’t want this to be the way that things went but that was life as he had known it. 

 

Oddly enough all of the scars felt of nothing. Yes, his alive body had grown used to the pain but getting used to something wasn’t the same as not feeling it. It was more of an inconvenience if anything.

 

All the seven, even the Stranger, had to bear witness to what Theon had gone through. While they all agreed that what happened with the two young farm boys was horrific he had clearly atoned for it, even a little too much. The maiden had to look away while the mother wept tears for his soul. Even some of the other gods were fascinated about how he was able to survive such horrific treatment. 

 

The Stranger only watched with a curiosity. Intrigued by the son of Balon. 

 

The Father then brought up the memories for all to see, including Theon. The feminine gods were preparing to comfort Theon if he began to weep however he wasn’t watching with fear but rather with amazement. He was seeing his torture from a totally different angle. He almost didn’t even consider that it was him, it didn’t look like him and the voice sounded a lot higher than he was expecting. It was like it was happening to someone other than him. 

 

He could see Ramsay when he first played the game with him. He remembered him saying hoe please wasn’t a body part. He had wanted Ramsay to finish him and cut it off fully but Ramsay wasn’t going to allow any form of pain relief. 

 

They were passing very quickly but Theon remembered each and every time he obtained one of those marks. As sickened as he was he couldn’t help but watch intently along with the gods. They were simply showing these memories as a quick reminder to everyone there. 

 

He saw Robb in some of those memories. How youthful and happy he was. It was in the back of his mind that Robb had stayed that way forever. He had still been rotting in the ground. Or in the Crypt of Winterfell. Wherever his body was resting he wanted to believe that he was finally getting his rest. 

He had seen Greywind’s head many times in the Crypt but he’d never seen Robb’s body. Ramsay must have detected it some time after the Wedding. 

It was well deserved after all. Theon closed his eyes and tried his best to rid his mind of the image of a beheaded Robb. Having Greywind’s head sewn onto his body as if he were some deformed puppet for him to be playing with. A Bolton hadn’t done that. It had been the men. Just the normal soldiers of the enemy. People could really be monsters when they got down to it. 

 

The memories continued and he saw lots more things that he would rather have forgotten. Yara, Luwin, Rodrick, Bran and anyone who he had ruined their lives. He remained strong even though each memory was chipping away like an artist working on a sculpture. 

 

As soon as the horror show was over an explanation was given for everyone. Mainly him.   
“You must be kept in your old body otherwise you will fade back to your old ways and merge with the previous life and then your wish will have been for nothing.” The Smith explained to him. 

 

Finally, with a smile upon his face, he was able to pull forth what he had been itching to show off the entire time. The Smith brought forwards a vision of a blade. By the way he looked at it Theon guessed that the Smith was impressed by the craftsmanship that went into the working of the blade.

 

It didn't belong to anyone. There was no insignia on it and there was no way to tell who it belonged to. Such a simple blade had managed to kill a king. 

 

It had a leather handle wrapped around the tang and Theon went to touch it but quickly retracted his hand. That blade wasn’t familiar to him in the least but it reminded him of Ramsay’s blades. 

 

The Smith handed him the blade and allowed him to feel it over. There was a perfectly balanced weight to it. There were no imperfections and though it was clear it had seen its years of wear and tear it still cut just as sharp as the day it was forged. Nothing less than perfection for the Bolton’s blades. 

 

There was the difference between father and son. Roose only needed one blade with perfection whereas Ramsay liked to have many, imperfect ones. The imperfections made it hurt on the victim more according to Ramsay. Make it last longer.

 

He was quick to hand it back to him. The Smith nodded and put it away in his belt. A tool he would keep for later on. Theon was surprised that a god would be impressed with such a measly thing however it was the history behind it that made him excited about working with it and not the craftsmanship. 

 

History of blades and how they were used were often more exciting than seeing a pretty blade that had never been used before in its life. Context over the aesthetic. 

 

“This is the only way you can be killed. Nothing else will be able to do it.” Theon kept his eyes on the only thing that could apparently kill him in this new life. He wanted to keep his eyes on the god but his eyes couldn’t help but keep on drifting towards the belt. Theon knew it meant he was immortal for a time. The prospect of being immortal did frighten him a little bit but there was certain death at the end of it so he was able to rest that worry.

 

Back to the topic of him keeping his scars. He began to think about it. That did make logical sense in Theon’s mind and he supposed they were correct with their decision. He didn’t think he would like to go back to the way he was before Ramsay. In his mind Pre Ramsay was a weak, lost person who needed all the help he could acquire. In reality, he was just being way too hard on himself. He did accept responsibility for himself being the way he was. 

“Okay.” He said knowing he would have to bear the scars a little bit longer.

 

The Father continued. “Finally. There will be minor changes you can make. Ones which do not have any overall impact on the future events. You may ask Lady Jeyne Poole about what you can and cannot change.” 

 

Theon was not quite shocked but found this highly unusual. Out of all the people who he could assume to be his escort he would never have guessed it would be her for she was insignificant in his previous life. He had to reach back and think about who she was for a moment. In fact, there was only one time he had a full conversation with her and that was when the Queen and King had decided to visit Winterfell. 

 

“Jeyne? Lady Sansa’s friend?” His question was met with a nod from the females of the seven. They had grown rather fond of Lady Jeyne and he watched her story play out in her version of life and wept for her like they had done with Theon. 

 

You see the gods had various worlds they had playing out all at the one time. Theon was from the world where things were moving more quickly and certain aspects were changed. They had started that world at the death of Jon Arryn. Whereas Jeyne’s world was more detailed and richer in its history. Jeyne’s world had been made first but then they had decided to try something different with it. 

 

“It is the companion that The Drowned God has chosen for you. In another life of yours, she plays an important part. In that life she was in Sansa’s place as Lord Bolton’s bride. Only she was pretending to be Lady Arya instead. Only you will be able to see her and communicate with her. She is there to make sure that you abide by our laws we have laid out for you but also she will help you to talk about your past. You will not be expected to keep your past life a secret all the time.” The Mother explained and when she spoke it was hard for Theon not to shake at how kind and motherly she spoke to him. It was as if she was speaking with Queen Alannys' voice.   
If there had been a seat Theon surely would have needed to sit down. 

 

The stress he had been feeling throughout he had been able to keep to himself but now he couldn’t deal with it anymore. He ended up expelling his stomach contents in a transparent acidic smelling mess. With his eyes darted to the ground he quickly fixed his appearance for the deities. Needless to say he was embarrassed by what he had just done. 

 

“Oh…I’m sorry this is still a lot to take in.” His voice cracked properly for the first time. It’s fragility showing as clear as broad daylight. The Mother looked down sympathetically at him and Theon forgot to even speak. All he could do was wait for them to say whatever else it was that they had to tell him. He wiped himself clean and made himself presentable yet again. He looked at the faces around him some were disappointed but not surprised, others were filled with sympathy. 

 

The Stranger was almost looking at him like a predator looking at prey. The two of them locked eyes and for a moment both of them knew exactly what the other was thinking. The stranger folded his arms and smirked down at him for the millionth time since he was here. Theon wasn't intimidated by him, quite the opposite. Now he could see he was just like people like Sandor Clegane. A cunt how enjoyed the suffering of others. He was have been the embodiment of death but he was nothing like Ramsay Bolton. 

 

The Mother’s mouth formed a scowl which made the both of them lose their eye contact. He rolled his eyes as a response. In his opinion the mother was useless. Then again he thought that about all of them. All humans didn’t need wisdom or nurturing or strength. They all came to him at the end.

 

“Of course. You will be departing soon however. If there is anything you want to ask. Ask it now.” The Mother said looking him over just to make sure that he was doing alright after throwing up all over the floor.

 

Theon took a moment. There were so many things that he wanted to ask but in all honesty all he wanted to do was get everything sorted and get back to his life so he could do right by it. He had so many things to consider and things to recall. He felt like they had already wasted enough time with him so he decided to ask the most important question first. 

 

“When I die at the Red Wedding what will become of me?” Theon had assumed that this would be his judgement but it seemed that now it was being delayed even further. The red wedding was a horrific event but if given the option he would gladly choose to participate if it meant that he would get a chance to be with Robb again. 

 

He knew he should have been concerned with what was happening within the life he was about to live but he couldn’t help but think of the aftermath. 

 

“You will go to a place of your choosing. Either you can be with your Family in the drowned god’s halls or you can be with the Starks in the seven heavens. Once you’ve lived the life where you chose the Starks you will decide.” 

 

Shock was too little a word to describe what was going through his brain. The one conflict that had torn him his whole life and only really got resolved in the last couple of months. A hand came to his mouth to not show how wide it was opening. 

 

“But surely I deserve….”

 

He was going to talk about himself. How he took two lives which were innocent and how he should be thrown into the seven hells for even being near them or thinking he deserved better than that. 

 

“You broke his scales. You need a second chance for him to decide.” The Stranger decided to blurt out. Theon wasn’t sure of the relationship between all of them but he assumed that the Stranger was the one who was a dick for no apparent reason other than the amusement of watching the others get flustered. Of course, he was meant to be a serious death-like figure but the idea of him having some resemblance of a human made him able to look at him without the feeling of dread. 

 

If they weren’t immortal the father clearly would have begun to strangle the stranger for saying that out loud. 

 

Theon was now focused on the patriarch of the seven.

 

He looked at the scales and he saw the big hand picking up the memory orb. When it was weighed on the scales it refused to move. There was a small cracking noise before the memory fell onto the ground and nearly shattering into a million tiny pieces. 

 

Theon had heard the tales. He knew that the scale measured justice and the souls of the dead. If you were evil it would lean more to the right. If you were good it would lean to the left. Theon’s leaned no specific way. It was perfectly balanced in the middle. This meant he had done so many good and bad things that he needed another chance to prove himself. They knew he was redeemed but they needed confirmation. Another chance where he would prove it to them would solidify it.

 

“Mother…Robb…My brothers…” He was trying to think of all the people that had influenced his life the first time. Naturally he wanted to be with his blood family but with there was no denying the Stark side of him. The gods sure loved to watch him toil in his suffering. This was a lesser evil but still it was weighing heavily on his mind and it would until the time came. 

 

“Is there no way I could choose both?” Theon asked but seeing the mother's head shake from side to side gave him the answer that he did not want. He couldn’t remain neutral on this and would have to pick between Stark and Greyjoy yet again. Life for him was always filled with impossible choices. 

 

“You may have accepted your dual identity but you cannot choose in this situation. For you see the Starks have gone to the heaven of the seven while your flesh and blood has gone to the Drowned Gods halls. You cannot be in two places at once.” 

 

The gods were forcing his hand to make a choice and stand by it throughout. If he didn’t make the choice then surely it would have been his last.

 

Theon really did have to choose this time. This was essentially where he would spend the rest of his days. He loved Yara and his mother and those were the only two people he would really love to see in the drowned god’s hall. Then again he didn’t even know if they were there yet or not. 

 

An image of his mother appeared in his mind. Her voice as soft and smooth as fresh milk and her face having the youth of a thousand handmaids. He remembered how she had always said they’d be together forever even after they had been separated by mortal hands. He never knew if she died or not. Last he heard she was at the keep with her sisters. She didn’t know if they were safe from the white walkers or not. Knowing how the seven kingdoms worked she was probably dead. In his old universe.

 

He wished he could have at least said goodbye before he died. Even if he were able to get a final cuddle from her. Her hugs were always filled with the best type of motherly love. A better mother then Catelyn ever was. It was rude but often in times the truth could be that way. Alannys cared for all of her children as if they were her own but when it came to her blood children she was the best mother that any king could have asked for. She was always kind, patient and her voice was never raised. 

 

She had such a way about her that she was able to deal with any situation she was given.  
That is enough. We have others to see. If you would excuse us we will leave you be.” They seemed hurried to leave so he left his questioning. They were gods after all so he supposed that they would be bust with whatever it was that they were doing. Probably the war that his world was about to experience. 

 

“Thank you.” Theon said before they left, kneeling before them and remaining cool while his mind was jumping with joy. He would finally go back and put everything right. Could he even handle being able to see them again?

 

He didn’t think he needed any more questions answered and he was ready to begin. It was a big step but he would get nowhere by remaining still.

 

With that he had been left alone in a room that looked a lot like a random room in the castle at Winterfell. It had the smell of the North all over it and it was just as cold as well. Some of the home comforts would have been nice but the nostalgia gave him an odd feeling inside. It wasn’t exactly the heat of fire but more like glowing embers. 

 

In the middle of exploring his room he all of a sudden heard the door open and his fingers, or what was left of them, worked quickly to make it seem like he hadn’t touched anything as he assumed it would be someone coming to check up on him. 

 

Out of nowhere he was viciously hugged by a brunette woman in a dress. She was dressed in a dull brown dress. Theon supposed it must have suited her as it matched her eyes perfectly. Once she had let him go from the hug he got a proper look and he could have broken down. 

 

He knew the look she had in her eyes all too well. It was the look of someone who had been at Ramsay’s mercy. He saw it in his own and in Lady Sansa’s after her wedding night, it was a broken look but she still had that fire inside her. He could see it, it was all but an ember but embers could burn bright once again with the right conditions. 

 

He had no idea who she was but he felt an overwhelming sense of duty to protect her with breath he took. Her face just seemed to have gone through such hardships that he couldn’t bear to think about. 

 

When Jeyne looked at him she at first seemed excited then her look dropped down. He was clearly not she was expecting at all. When the Seven had first mentioned that she would be escorting a version of Theon Greyjoy to his happy ending she was elated but now she had realized it wasn’t her Theon. 

 

She wanted to cry but she wasn’t going to let herself. Theon was very unsure of the whole event but with a nod of her head she allowed him to clean away her tears. It was only a momentary thing however. She was fine moments after. 

 

“Lady Poole. I’m not the person you once knew. I’m sorry that you were married to Ramsay.” He knew that if she had been Sansa’s equivalent she had been through what most could not bear to live with. 

However Theon was also able to tell she was a lot more broken then Sansa ever was. If he wasn't mistaken there were a couple of bruises still adorned around her neck like the finest jewellery in all of Westeros. Her eyes were hollow, and from the way Jon talked Sansa was able to get her spark back while this Jeyne Poole was still clawing tooth and nail in a daily fight not to break. 

 

He knew that feeling all too well.

 

Jeyne thought she could have controlled her tears but that seemed unlikely as now she was crying again under different circumstances. Her tears of happiness trickled down her face and she wiped them away before Theon could ask if she was okay. She seemed a little disappointed that he had no idea who she was but to her that was alright. 

 

It was still the same man. Right? 

 

“I know. That’s okay. You helped save me from Ramsay. I will be forever grateful. I only want to give you your happy ending.” Jeyne’s only friend at Ramsay’s twisted version of Winterfell had been her Theon. The Bolton Bastard had forced them to do horrific things together but she knew that it was better him doing it then Ramsay. Then he had gone above the call of honour and duty as he helped her to escape her castle prison and he had gotten her to safety with Stannis. 

 

Theon felt like repeating himself in telling her that he never saved her from anything before however she had been with Ramsay so she was probably very sensitive. He just gave her a small smile and they both went quite not sure on how to speak with each other.   
She felt like she owed him her life. 

 

The two were left alone and while Jeyne’s smile was small it made Theon feel a certain comfort within him. In her eyes this Theon seemed a lot more vulnerable. 

 

“So…There are gods after all huh?” Theon injected making the smallest of small talk. Jeyne appreciated it. She was on the same boat that Theon had been in. Not believing in gods after knowing that no god would be evil enough to create Ramsay Bolton. 

 

“Yeah. I used to believe in them in my old life.” Jeyne mentioned remembering how her septa had told her how to make conversations when there was none to be had. 

 

“Then Ramsay happened?” He hadn’t meant for it to come out so casually but the word used to remind him of his own experience with religion. Theon knew what Ramsay was. He could destroy anyone’s beliefs by the torture he put them through. He proved that the gods were truly merciless beings. It was odd now considering that he had met the god’s moments ago.   
Ramsay was a God killer of sorts. 

 

“Then Ramsay happened...” With the slightest pause Jeyne confirmed his suspicions. She had been a lady of a northern house so naturally she had been brought up to believe in the Old Gods and the New. She still kept her faith even after Ned Stark had been beheaded and she had been forced to go work in that disgusting whore house owned by the tricky bastard known as Littlefinger. However once she met Ramsay Bolton she lost everything. Her virtue, her rationality and most of all her happiness. 

 

When she had died her and the Maiden had become fast friends. The Maiden had a huge part in Jeyne’s psychological recovery and they spent more time together rather than not. Jeyne had been doing well but the torture had forever left deep unsealing marks across her mind. In Jeyne’s universe she had died before Theon had. It was a shame but she knew that he was going to do right by her. The gods were planning Theon for a while so they needed to keep Jeyne around for when the time was right. 

 

“I’m sorry.” He had said it before but he would say it again. It was all that he could say. He knew every inch of Ramsay and what his sick brand of games implied so it would be impossible for him to say anything that could lessen the pain. Nothing Yara said had helped him. Then again her idea of help had been telling him to put it in the past or slit his wrists. 

 

“Don’t be. I escaped with you, with help from Mance but you convinced me to go.” She explained and Theon looked up. It was good to know that other versions of him were stilling looking out for people to protect from the wrath of Ramsay Bolton. Then again she was talking as if they were lifelong friends. He didn’t want to give her hopes up by having her think that he knew anything about her. 

 

Theon didn’t know of anyone who went by the name of Mance. He had heard rumours that there was king beyond the wall who went by that name but other than that there was nothing. A king who wore the fur of mammoths and used the tusks of them as his chalice. His army of spear wives by his side to help secure his command over those of whom would be willing to follow one leader. The supposed leader who would bring them back to their glory and rightful place at the south of the wall. 

 

“I’m not your Theon. I’m sorry.” He may have had the same name as this person’s friend but he was assured he had never seen a woman quite like her before. He said this much to her dismay. He wondered how her escape must have gone. Judging by her body language she couldn’t have done it without him. In Theon’s mind it was impossible that such a skinny fragile thing could have survived a fall from the Winterfell wall. Lady Sansa was hurt but she wasn’t starved by any means and she managed to keep her glow healthy. She was a strong wolf who survived with the scars. 

 

She sighed with a slight defeat twinging on her tone. She knew this to be true and it was futile to deny it. It would have been nice to pretend but the differences were too stark, both in outward appearance and possibly their personality. That she was yet to see. It could have been a welcomed change of pace. He didn’t know what it was to be but whatever it was she was going to prepare herself. 

 

“Well you may not be the person I knew but we have a lot of time to get to know each other.” Jeyne recovered herself quickly and placed a smile on her face. Theon’s could almost instantly pick up on the subtly twitch when she did. He was used to doing it himself sometimes something would remind him of Ram…. No, he couldn’t think about that name. If he thought about it anymore today, then he would have thrown up again. He wasn’t going to risk the embarrassment again. 

 

Jeyne then picked up on his eye motions. It seemed that for a fraction of a second he too was beginning to lose himself for a moment in the thought of his master. Luckily he had grown to master the art of covering up his panic unless the situation was dire. The amount of herself she could see in him was uncanny. 

 

“That we do my Lady.” Theon said smirking at the joke. They’d have an entire lifetime. He wasn’t sure how far the gods would send him back but he wished that he’d be sent back to the very moment he was born. He would be able to see his mother again and have at least some happy time before having to live through the worst day of his life. The failure of the Greyjoy rebellion. That was the day his life went to the dogs. Well that technically would have been with Ramsay but he knew what he meant. 

 

A silence fell between them. Clearly the awkwardness between them was evident but they were in this together so they would have eventually get used to this feeling. Jeyne moved awkwardly and nodded towards the door. Theon looked and then he inhaled lightly. 

 

“I want to go now.” Theon had digested the majority of the information after mulling it over his head many times and considering all the things he would have to do and say. 

 

Jeyne nodded and then held hands as they looked at the door. It was weird for Theon. It felt exactly like Lady Sansa holding his hand when they had bravely jumped from the walls of Winterfell. Only Jeyne held him a lot more tightly thought with the tightness came a comfort. The door was shaped much like the ones that were in Winterfell. They were made of wood and a strong metal. The smell was what really made him realise it was a door to the past. It still smelt so fresh yet still was from deep within his memories. 

 

He put a hand on the handle and he turned it until he heard the creaking of the wood and the thump of the metal. Behind the door there was nothing but blackness. Theon was concerned that perhaps the gods had gotten it wrong. He wafted his hands through the black mist and with a sudden jolt he was dragged through the door without any warning or time to try and prepare himself for the impact. 

 

And with that Theon’s journey had begun. He assumed it would be easy but little did he know it would be just as tough as the one before. They opened the door and Theon was blinded by the darkness that attacked his vision. His body felt like it was being pulled through a small hole but then suddenly there was a strange feeling of euphoria. 

 

Then nothingness. 

 

With a start he woke up back in his bed in Winterfell.


	2. Winterfell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theon's arrival back in Winterfell goes about as well as expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy my dudes. Like partially spell checked but should be majority good on that end.

It was the weirdest feeling. Theon had been in the halls of the gods and no more than a second later he had been sprung back into Winterfell. 

Theon was lying on his back and it was the softest thing he had felt in years. It felt like he had ingested an entire bottle of the milk of the poppy and was in the middle of some sort of happy illusion. His body arched against it and he gathered the majority of it up and proceeded to wrap himself up in a small cocoon-like structure. It smelt like Winterfell and he couldn't believe how good it felt to be back in the past. 

Wolf fur, he recognised it as. Since Ramsay he hadn’t exactly had the chance to get a nice warm bed. There had been that small period after he had been freed but in Pyke they only had those coarse rough and quite frankly uncomfortable bed sheets.Then they had been driven out and it was back to boat beds which were either a soggy mattress or a hammock. Then it was Dragonstone and he was so exhausted half the time he would simply sleep on the floor of a small hidden away room. God he was ready for this. 

“Good morning not Theon Greyjoy.” Jeyne said. In an attempt to get him up from the bed she tried to pull the blanket away but Theon was having none of it. He only held it tighter and she was unable to take it away from him. She frowned and let him enjoy his comfort. Theon only poked up his head from the covers. 

“Lady Poole. Where are we? In this time of life I mean?” He looked around but he didn’t have the foggiest clue when it could have been. There were no direct clues as to when it was he had been put back but he knew it was before the war. 

When his eyes were opened more he saw Jeyne she had a phantasm like appearance. Theon supposed it would help him not talk to her when other people were around. She too was obviously trying to adjust but it was plain to see that she was going to need a hell of a lot more practice. 

“Do you remember the day that Will from the night's watch was beheaded?” She had been briefly told by The Maid that she would be going back to that point but since she was clueless she was shown one of his previous memories so that she could try and explain it. 

It would have been an easy question to answer except there had been a lot of beheading Theon had witnessed with his own eyes. Mostly Ser Rodrick. “I can’t say I do. I saw a lot of beheadings in my time.”

“Oh It’s the day you find the direwolf pups.” Jeyne said thinking of a more memorable event to jog his memory. Theon's eyes lit up with recognition. He felt foolish for not remembering it after all it had been the first person to realise the threat of the white walkers. They were all fools for thinking him mad. 

“Oh yes. I do recall that now.” He said remembering more and more from the past. He had almost forgotten all about it. 

When all the talking was done he curled back up in the blankets much like a cat. Jeyne tried to talk but he only put his head further into the pillow. A grimace look came upon her rosy cheeks and she once again began to poke him. “Do you ever intend to get out of bed?”

“When the white walkers invade maybe then.” Theon said jokingly turning away from her and closing his eyes once more to go back to sleep. If he was right in his dates he’d get a good lie in of about 6 years. 

“If you do not get up now Robb will come in and see your scars.” She lied. She had no idea if Robb would come into his room but she assumed he would coming looking if he was here any longer. The wolf bedding was instantly thrown onto the floor and Theon was up and at it, searching for his clothes. It had been a very long time since being in this room so everything was a distant memory to him. He vaguely remembered where everything was Except he needed help to find a brush that could tame his mop of hair. 

After acquiring some help from Jeyne he was able to find his northern clothes once again. The Greyjoy would never take clothes for granted ever again given the rags he had been forced to wear when he was a slave. True they were heavier but his strength was made up after his training. He had gotten weaker thanks to the starvation period of his time in captivity but he had put on a lot more than he had before. 

He was able to feel each part of fur brushing about his skin and he let his skin breathe in it for one singular moment. 

When he was fully dressed, making sure all of his scars and bruises were covered of course. Luckily with northern clothes being so big and bulky he was able conceal them perfectly. His face was going to be another matter. Though it was impossible it had changed, his cheekbones were thinner and despite him having gained some healthy weight with Yara’s help the change was still noticeable. 

“I took this from Sansa’s room. She uses it to cover her blemishes. I used to use this stuff all the time. All ladies do.” He was handed a small jar of peachy coloured liquid. It was made from peaches, honey and goats milk giving it a distinct smell and if people asked he could say he had been having some fun with one of the maids

Two fingers dipped into the jar and he did his best to apply it and with Jeyne's help he was able to cover himself nicely. If a person were to look close enough they would be able to see the scaring coming from slightly underneath it but Theon wasn't going to let anyone too close. Jeyne smoothed the last of the liquid and blended it into his neck. The stubble made it visible at the neck so it was extra work to get it hidden. 

He looked in a mirror to make sure all was applied correctly but there was a bigger shock then his face waiting in store for him. 

“Jeyne why is my hair white?” 

“Ah...That...Well sometimes the body goes through such a shock when being put back that sometimes it can put stress on the hair. Or that could have been because of me...” In all honesty she had no idea why that had happened but she wished it didn't. 

He played with it and sighed. He supposed it wasn’t the worst thing in the world. A little hard to explain but a trivial matter. The change seemed to make Jeyne a little bit flushed for some unknown reason. 

When he was outside he saw the hustle and bustle of the people of Winterfell. Everyone was contented with their lives. They all looked so happy to be there. It brought back some of the good times he had spent there. Where he and Robb would go riding, he’d teach Bran how to properly shoot a bow and arrow and he would tell people how he could do anything better and anyone. 

Almost all of these people would be dead one day. By war with the living or the dead they were all bound to their fates. 

He remembered how cocky he had been in the past and while it wasn't the thing he regretted the most in his life it would have been up there. Then there were the boys and how their lifeless bodies hung from the walls burnt to cinders and a crisp. The sight may have been horrific but it was the smell that lingered most in his mind. Burnt flesh that would make even the strongest of men quiver. 

While in his mind he was thinking about all of the bad smells a newer, much more fragrant scent captured his attention. The wind was blowing the smell of the weirwood tree all around. It was earthy and fresh but somehow was able to convey peace to Theon. When he was with Ramsay a couple of time a week he might have been allowed to go the tree and pick up some leaves for the cooks to use in their cooking or the maesters to use in their medicines. 

Everything was so peaceful before the war when the dead weren't a threat and the five kings weren't trying to kill each other at first glance. All had been so well. Peaceful. 

Both wandered around some more when he heard a voice call out from behind him. It seemed to be from far behind so Theon wasn’t sure if it was meant for him so he waited before he would turn around. It came closer and it was definitely directed at him. 

“Excuse me would you ready the horses? We need to go out after breakfast.” The smooth voice asked again with more annoyance that he hadn't been heard the first time. 

Theon knew this voice all too well. It belonged to his best friend. His betrayed partner. His brother in arms now and always. A crippling anxiety overcame him. How was he to handle the situation? In a memory he had planned this reunion in his head at least fifty times but now that the reality had come to his doorstep the words in his head were turning into garbled nonsense. Words overlapping each other and trying to take dominance. 

His body turned to face him and in a fraction of a second Robb’s eyes turned from serious to utterly confused. Robb was a lot younger looking than Theon remembered. His reddish-brown curls lying on his head like snow on a fresh winter morning. His eyes the same colour as his mother's. Definitely a Tully with all the fire and personality of a Stark. 

“Theon?” Robb asked rather shocked at seeing his friend looking so different. “Sorry I didn't recognise you. What have you done to your hair? My mother is going to kill you.” This was very surprising as it was only last night that he had seen the Greyjoy yet this morning instead of his dark hair and dark eyes he had been greeted with the exact opposite. Rob could not place what it was that was different in his personality but he knew enough to know that something has definitely changed and it was not just the change in hair colour.

“Robb.” 

Theon was lost. He had betrayed Robb but he couldn't say. This was a version of Robb who didn't probably despise him with every fibre of his being for taking Winterfell. Unfortunately he let a small sob escape but quickly covered his mouth to try and conceal it. 

Robb, being quite the observant young man noticed his friends odd behaviour and was quick to realise something was wrong. “Theon are you okay? You don’t look well.” It was difficult for him. Though Theon thought that he looked well Robb was seeing from a different point of view. Then again he had exactly witnessed how he looked when he was with the Bolton. 

“Robb…I don’t- I’m sorry.” The words were struggling to leave his mouth. If the words could leave his mouth then he would babble all about how he betrayed the Starks and how it was the worst mistake he had ever made in his entire life. 

“Sorry for what? What have you done?” At this moment in time the young wolf had grown extremely concerned with his friend's actions. By the way he was speaking he assumed he must have done something terrible during the night and he hadn't heard about it yet. The prince of Pyke was always one for getting into mischief and never once before had he apologised for it so for him to be groveling like this, voice breaking and nearly formed tears in his eyes, he must have done something unforgivable. 

“Er…My hair I mean. It must look a sight.” Theon was always quick-witted about himself and making up lies on the spot. Thanks once more to Ramsay. Theon found it odd how he learned so much from the man who would used to flay him daily simply for his own amusement. He took a strand in his hand and played with it. It was definitely greasy and he couldn’t wait to get a bath that wouldn’t consist of cold water being thrown on him or Ramsay watching hungrily. 

“It nothing to be sobbing over.” Robb didn’t know that his friend cared so much about his appearance. Of course there were moments that Theon could be vain but he never thought that this would be something he would be sobbing over. Theon would sometimes allow Sansa to put some small braids into his hair and while Theon acted like he hated it it would bring more female attention to him so he didn’t mind. 

“It does. It suits you well but it’s drastically different from what I’m used to.” Robb spoke to him but his eyes were trained on his hair and how it could have changed so wildly overnight. it was only yesterday evening that he had last seen him but in terms of looks, he seemed like a new man. 

“I suppose it is.” Theon laughed. He could joke all he wanted but despite his exterior brimming with positivity internally, he felt like he was going to drown in his sorrow. this version of Rob had no idea of the Crime he had committed of the Terrible ways he had betrayed the family. gills had eaten away at him before but this was an entirely new form of guilt something he wanted so desperately to tell him but couldn't.

Instead, he came out with a simple statement that explained nothing to Robb but meant the world to him.

“Oh, gods Robb! I'm so sorry.” Theon could not hold his tears back anymore. He grabbed the Stark by the arms and brought him into the hardest hug he had ever given. He was sure to have choked his best friend had he continued. Rob was probably the strongest out of all of the Stark children but not even he could have tried his best friend away from his muscular body. there had been seldom times that he had seen his best friend like this, the main time being when he had first been taken to his new home in Winterfell.

The memory was still fresh and Robb's mind of how Theon cried and cried for hours on end refusing to speak to anyone, even the lord of Winterfell himself. Robb had been the first person that Theon truly opened up to within the walls and he would never forget it. He had to admit he was having a lot of trouble putting it together but he was sure that his time eventually he would be told what was going on. and besides, if Theon wasn't going to tell him he had other ways of finding out, mostly through spies and the people who worked around the stables who happened to pick up on certain conversations. It wasn't eavesdropping it was more helping his friend through difficult ways.

He was sorry for everything that had happened in the past. The way he'd stupidly taken Winterfell. The way he'd chosen his family over Robb.

When he was done squeezing the life out of him he let go and looked around. it was at this point he saw a young Rickon walking by obviously trying to find someone to play some games with. it was at this point that it had occurred to him that there were indeed other people he needed to speak to besides Robb. One more soul than the others.

“Wait Robb! Where’s Sansa? I need to talk to her.” There was a deep urgency and his voice he hadn't meant for it to come out like that but he needed to make sure that she was safe. Of course she would have been safe but he definitely needed to make sure for certain. Call it a protective instinct but he needed it. 

Robb was once again looking with concern at the ward. It was like he was a crazed man who was in the care of the top maesters. “You’re not going to flirt with my sister are you?” 

Alas the Greyjoy was in no mood for joking and after all this was serious business. “Robb please…”

Robb was not able to piece together what on earth was going on with him but rather than deal with it now he would distract him with something else and then come back to it at a later point after all as the oldest son of Eddard Stark he had lots of things to do. like the execution they were going to this afternoon. he put a hand foot fully on his chin and tried to think where his younger sibling might be at the moment. his fingers snapped and he came up with the best possible solution to the Greyjoys problem. “She’s probably having her lesson with Old Nan.”

“Of course.” with everything that happened here practically forgotten but at one points she had actually had lessons with an Old Nan and was not forced to deal with any of the actual politics that affected her life. all she had to learn to do with sing dance and keep men happy.

After Ramsay had made him witness their wedding night he swore that he would somehow persuade Yara that every girl on the Iron Islands must be trained in some form of Combat for this very situation. it did not matter they were married all that mattered was that the partnership was equal and no one was getting hurt. 

If a man was to try and force himself on her then the wife should cut him down where he stood. Sansa should have been allowed to do that. 

He navigated the halls almost knocking over the servants in the process as he tried to locate the room where she normally went. 

Theon saw Sansa from the hall and he could have broken down with happiness. She looked so happy and young, so not traumatized by the abuse of Ramsay Bolton. He had already let the tears fall once this morning but he was inches away from doing it again. something about seeing her so happy just made him so relieved. if only he could tell her to stay home and leave at the appropriate times. 

She was wearing a lovely blue dress. It was casual but still had such intricate details in it. Each thread seemed to piece together a little bit of her family's history. She was practically radiating and all she was doing was standing chatting to a girl servant. She had blue flowers in her hair. The blue stood out against the fire-kissed orange which made it impossible to ignore. 

At the sight of the flowers, he recoiled a little bit. 

“Theon, what are you doing here?” She asked seeing him looking so pale. 

Sansa was very surprised to see the Greyjoy here. He should have been out riding horseback or shooting a bow and arrow not wasting time with the silly little girl like her. There encounters were normally brief but filled with laughter. He was fond of making inappropriate jokes and while her mentor had told her to stay away they had a good relationship as friends. Sansa often wondered if he thought it was more then that. While they were friends she never wanted to marry him. Afterall she was a Stark and a Tully so she had ambitions to marry high into power and live her dream of being a queen and producing lots of little princes and princesses.

“Sansa. I’m glad you’re okay. You look healthy.” It was the best thing that could come out of his mouth at the moment but he thought it should have sufficed. 

“Theon your hair! Oh….ummm…I mean Thank you Theon. I’m not sure where this has come from but thank you.” Naturally it was Sansa to outright say that they aren't there was different than normal but unlike her brother she tried to better her sentence by paying him a compliment. Even her laugh sounded happier.

Theon never actually plan to say anything to Sansa but he had a small sentence here than planning in his head for he had talked with her briefly after the female Knight and the Squire came to rescue her. “This is always your home Sansa. No matter who’s in charge or who you marry you are always a Stark. And Winterfell is your home.”

Sansa had no idea where this was coming out of. Last night when she had seen him last he had been the epitome of cheerfulness but this morning it was like he had been thrown into a well of depression. She responded “I want to leave. It’s so boring here.”

Jeyne was surprised. Out of everyone she had seen it was Sansa he looked like the most like her own. Her hair and face almost a perfect match. She was a lot younger than her face would suggest. She seemed to be an older teenager but at this point she only should have been thirteen or fourteen at most. 

Theon knew that this was the pre-Ramsay, Sansa so she had no knowledge of what was to come regrettably. “I know Lady Sansa. Just always be careful, and always carry a small knife.” If he had one on his person he would have given it to her but then he decided he would make it personal. 

Sansa was shocked that such a thing would come out of his lips. The very thought of her holding a weapon was impossible to her. In her mind she was sure he had gotten her confused with Arya. The second daughter of the North who loved to do all manner of boyish things and would never learn how to do useful things like sewing and planning dinners. “Theon! A lady shouldn’t play with such weapons!”

“Not play Lady Sansa. Use it when you have to. Gods it doesn’t make sense now but it might in the future I promise.” He said looking to Jeyne who’s expression who was normal soft was now in the process of a wetness from nearly let a couple of tears slip. She saw so much of herself in her old friend. 

She too had been that naive at one point. 

“Good heavens! I almost forgot we have to go for breakfast! Father has a big announcement. Come on.” Sansa said grabbing his arm and running with him, not realising how many scars she was tightly grasping. He seethed for a moment but let it go. 

Thus he was dragged from the outside in the hall for morning breakfast with the Starks. They reached the hall in no time and to his surprise most of them were already there tucking into some freshly cooked bacon and some wheaten bread. Theon almost choked on how good it smelt. He thought that the last time he ate a good meal was in Pyke just before the Kingsmoot. 

It looked even better then it smelled and that was saying a lot. The bacon was crisped nicely and the bread was soft in the middle without it being underbaked. 

When Sansa came in she sat down beside her family while Theon held back a little bit at the door. He was going to sit down but unfortunately something in his mind as telling him to stay back. Theon’s stomach filled with a terrible concoction of guilt, shame and regret and the urge to go vomit was growing every second he saw the Stark’s smiling and being happy. 

Bran, Rickon, Arya and Catelyn were all seated at the table. They welcomed Sansa first while seeming to ignore his existence. 

Catelyn looked up as he began walking and she dropped her small fork onto the plate. 

“Theon Greyjoy! What in the seven hells happened to you?!” Catelyn just had to draw all the attention onto him. He was accurately able to predict about what she was going to say next. It was something along the lines of his hair along with something about fixing it. Give it a week and everyone would have been used to it. 

Robb had walked in on Catelyn yelling at him and not wanting to draw attention he silently tip-toed towards the end of the table. She noticed him. Of course. 

All the kids looked at him, half of them with wonder but the other half with confusion about how he changed it. They knew that with the right ingredients hair could be turned black but the only way to get white hair was to either go through a massive shock or to starve himself. His eyes then trained on Bran and Rickon. This is where the punch to the stomach came fully. He came close to the wooden splintered table and tried his best not make it look like he was about to pass out. 

“Your hair is white. Did you see a ghost?” Arya asked suddenly getting very excited at the idea of ghosts being there in their home of Winterfell. Her mother rolling her eyes playfully at her youngest daughter talking of such childish things but seeing how excited she was about it. 

Theon looked around the table of Starks. Only 3 of them were alive the last time he checked. The rest were dead. One stabbed through the heart, one throat sliced open and one shot through the heart while running from Ramsay Bolton. “I see many ghosts here but none of them are scary. In fact, there’s one right behind you.”

Theon had said this in a jokey manner but then he regretted it as soon as he saw who was behind her. 

Ned had walked in and was currently standing behind Arya ready to surprise her. He did this often as if she was to become a good sword fighter then she was going to have to be prepared for anything. Even Ned knew at this point Arya was not going to marry anyone as he and Cat planned so he made plans for her to become the head of the Stark guards if when she became a woman she still was insistent on not becoming a Lady. After all Ned had heard that was what Lord Tarth had done with his daughter. 

“Very funny. I’m not dead yet.” Ned said smiling along while his ward froze on the spot. 

Theon shifted looked about as uncomfortable as his faked smile did. His eyes going down to the table. Ned passed no remarks. What he did pass a remark on was the snow white shade of his hair. It had previously been a brown colour. 

“What did happen your hair though? It’s unsightly and with the king coming I don’t know if you’ll be presentable.”

“And yet you don’t keep Ser Rodrick hidden away.” Theon said in a joking voice. Ser Rodrick was another person with whom he would have to make amends with. He doubted that conversation would go very well at all but it would have to be done at one point or another. 

Thankfully the rest of the family enjoyed the joke too and the laughter was almost enough to take the focus away from the original question. To be joking with them in this manner was a surreal experience for him. Everyone used to laugh at him rather than laughing with people. He laughed in the face of Haggar during the beach fight but that was him laughing alone. 

“What did happen really?” Ned asked wanting to know for sure why he had taken this sudden change over the night. He pulled out his chair at the head of the table and he sat down. 

Theon had been practising this in his head and was ready to finally use his fake story. 

“I went for a midnight walk in the woods. I think I slipped and hit my head. I woke up on a river bank and I assumed it must have turned white from the freezing water or the shock. I don’t know myself.”

The mood was changed instantly. 

Everyone looked at them with concern. He sounded so casual about him nearly having drowned. Robb was most concerned out of all the Stark clan. He could have died yet he showed no emotion. Then again it did certainly explain his behaviour from earlier. Several long breaths were held. Ned was more concerned at the fact that he had almost died rather than the fact that he nearly lost a ward. 

“Shouldn’t you see a maester? In case you’ve hurt your head. I mean no offense but you have been acting weird this morning. You acted like you hadn’t seen me and Sansa in years.” Robb commented connecting the dots on the earlier events of today how he was on the verge of tears. Like a person who had not seen their best friends for an entire lifetime.

“I’ll be fine. I feel a lot better than I have in a long time.” He admitted. The guilt had subsided a little and now he was allowing himself to sort of enjoy the moment. He was having a happy breakfast and he could not have to worry about the past. 

“What about the ghosts? Did they push you in?” Arya said almost disappointed that there might not, in fact, be ghosts she could go find and capture. She wanted it so badly to be real. Catelyn glanced at Arya but the small rebellious child refused to take her eyes of Theon. 

Arya was still very young. It was true Theon had never seen her after his time in Winterfell heard stories and legends stories such as her becoming a faceless man. interacting with her again knowing how she probably wanted to kill them for what he did. It just gave him an overall bad feeling.

She was clanging her knives against the table much to her mother's dismay. If she kept on acting like this she'd never become a proper lady. It was innocent enough to everyone else. 

“A girl should look somewhere else.” He told her with a jolly tone. It was hard to believe she had once been that small. He ruffled her dark hair and she got even more annoyed. Though something was odd. When he did touch her head she noticed a slightly less amount of fingers then before. She just assumed it was the feeling of the glove making it weird. Naturally, it didn’t fully explain it but the answer was the easiest to accept. 

“A girl happens to be Arya Stark of Winterfell.” She said folding her arms and sticking out her tongue at him. Catelyn on the verge of scolding her for un-lady like behaviour before Ned gave her the look of _‘She’s fine Cat. Leave her be.’_

He was tempted to say about her being No one but he knew that it probably wasn’t in his best interests to make such an obvious joke about her future. He had only heard tales of Arya going to Braavos to become a part of the faceless men. It was an unsettling prospect but then again the only thing between Ramsay and a faceless man was a code of honour. And a belief in the gods of course. 

The joke hadn’t sat well with the ghostly lady at all. Jeyne was giving him a look which told him he was getting a little carried away with his on the nose humour that only he was laughing at.

“So what news is there today father?” Sansa asked sitting up and getting excited, remembering the reason they were called in the first place. Ned thanked her for putting them back on track. 

“As I mentioned before the King and the Queen are coming to Winterfell in several days. Along with their prince. We need to be prepared for them.” Ned commanded to all of them. He knew that Robert would want to be treated like the king he was so everyone had to be in the best shape they could physically manage. Sansa let a happy gasp escape her lips while Arya’s eyes almost rolled into the back of her skull. 

“Daenerys and Jo-” Theon began with mild curiosity as he bit into a crispy bit of bacon. The crunch seemed to last a lifetime in the ears of everyone else. As he swallowed it took Theon genuinely a moment to figure out what was wrong with the sentence he had just said. He hadn’t lived to see who ended up on the throne but he assumed it was the both of them, well it was either them or the white walkers. 

All the Starks were looking at him like he had gone mad.

A gloved hand covered his mouth. “Wait Robert’s still…” Theon had completely forgotten how Robert had actually been the King of Westeros for a time. Not a very good king as from what Theon remembered he had gorged himself to death and then he took a boar to the side, even small rumours of Cersei killing him floated about for months afterwards. With everything going on it seemed like a lifetime ago. Mentally he was slapping herself across the face for making such an idiotic mistake. 

Catelyn put down her knife and fork almost silently and put her hands on the table and her mouth grew into the form that made all the Stark children go quiet. “That is it. You are going to Maester Luwin. You do not even know who runs the Seven Kingdoms anymore.” Her voice filled with certainty and annoyance. No one dared to challenge her on this. 

“I do Lady Stark. I just happened to forget. It happens.” Theon was trying his hardest not to flinch at Catelyn’s yelling but it was proving rather difficult. Only Robb picking up on his hitching breath.

Catelyn’s voice, almost in a hushed whisper then explained. “You thought a Targaryen was ruling the Seven Kingdoms. And a female ruler as well. If Robert hears you saying that he’ll have your head on an executioner's block. Regardless if you’re Ned’s ward.” She added on a more serious note. Ned nodded sternly and agreed with her on her on those points. His eyes glanced to Jon who had just happened to walk into the room and Theon knew the reason why. His eyes made their way towards Jon and both men just stared at the bastard until Catelyn coughed and they both looked back to their food.

“I’m fine. I am tired though. Would you excuse me if I went to lie down?” Theon had felt like he had overstayed his welcome and he should try to think of what happened in this time so he wouldn’t make any more stupid mistakes. This breakfast had seen its fair share of awkwardness as it was and he didn’t need to infect it anymore then he already had. 

“Oh of course. I will still be sending up Maester Luwin however. You must have taken quite a knock to the head. Along with any other injuries.” Catelyn said with that finality tone in her voice which meant that her word was law. The rest of the Stark were quiet, especially Ned. He knew that if Theon brought up a Targaryen then death would be the least of his wards worries. Ned’s eyes wandered to Jon who had walked in upon hearing all of the commotion.

“What’s going on her- What happened your hair Greyjoy?” Jon asked firstly seeing how everyone’s eyes seemed to be focused on him. Theon got the feeling he would be hearing a lot of the same statement from now on. Mostly about his hair. It was odd how no one had noticed his face yet, how it was slightly peachier than usual. 

“Jon. Would you mind helping Theon to his chambers? He’s taken ill and needs rest.” Catelyn said not even having the decency to look at Jon in the eyes while talking to him. Ned noticed this and sighed making the eye contact for her. Theon looked sympathetically at Ned. Having to hide this secret from his own wife must have been a daily struggle for him. It would be like him claiming Yara’s child as his own and having to take the secret to the grave. 

Jon was smaller and shaven. He was now a wolf but soon to become a king. It's hard to believe they were the same person he'd talked with at Dragonstone. 

Jon would have said no due to the Greyjoy’s cocky personality but he didn’t want Catelyn to hate him any more than she already did so he did as he was told like the family pet he was. Then again it was better than being a servant and not having any power at all. 

Thoen felt Jon’s strong muscular arms arm wrapped around his own shoulder and he propped him up so he would be able to walk. Theon was silent as they began but slowly he wanted to do something. His boney fingers reached down and felt his tunic. No knife wounds was what he found. Jon hadn’t experienced death. 

Jon begrudgingly moved his hand back up and was going to let himself believe it was an accident. When they were out of sight of the other Theon spoke with something he had wanted to say back at Dragonstone but never had the chance to before. Jon was having an internal battle about whether to say anything to Theon or not but he was saved the trouble. 

“Jon. I am sorry for mistreating you. You are not a bastard.” He said with not a single hint of any deception in his voice. This was the truth. He was a king and Jon were suffering at the hands of his family and the staff. He should have been with Daenerys. Though they were aunt and nephew there were so many incestuous kings and queens that their relationship was pretty good considering the competition. 

“Very funny Greyjoy.” 

The sarcasm rich in his voice, Jon assumed that this was going to be the end to some joke about him being a bastard. He yanked him a small bit for him to pick up the pace and Theon hissed a little bit. 

Theon halted his pace and waited for Jon to stop as well. Theon made sure his eyes and Jon’s were meeting when he spoke his next piece.

“I mean it. I’ve been the worst to you and I had no right to act like that. Hit me if you want. I deserve it.” Theon was standing waiting for Jon to exact his revenge. He assumed that since this was pre-Night's watch Jon he would have no problem with giving him a bruise to remember. He was Ned’s bastard who didn’t have to abide by the rules of the crows and Theon was a prisoner or Ramsay. He could take a beating. 

Jon had never in his life such a sincere mouth come out of the Greyjoy’s mouth. Theon’s lips were pursed and ready to brave whatever abuse Jon was probably going to dish out. To his surprise Jon just kept on carrying him to his room. “That must have been quite the fall. I’m not going to hit you. I don’t forgive you but I accept your apology.”

This was only one morning and Theon had been verbally abusing him for years beforehand. It wasn’t exactly fair but then again it was better late than never he supposed. And no one else in Winterfell had ever apologized for being horrid towards him before so that made this case a little special. 

Theon was being genuine and that was for certain. 

“That’s enough for me. Thank you. Thank you. Oh Jon. You were right.” Theon knew he should have asked but he hugged him much to his utmost shock. While several people had witnessed this no one said anything. All having different thoughts but most of them along the same lines. Their stares lingered and quickly disappeared after whenever Jon turned to face them.

Jon was going to ask more questions but decided to leave it. Theon was helped to lie down on his bed and Jon was thanked multiple times to a point until it got rather on his nerves. Jon left with haste and Theon waited a couple of moments before he could talk to the other person who was waiting in the room. 

“That was interesting.” Jeyne stated excitedly. She had been sitting in a small handcrafted chair beside the drawers. Never before had she felt such a rush of emotions and excitement seeing how Theon would throw the suspicion of. He was beginning to look more like the Theon she had once known. 

Theon sat up and looked her dead in the eyes. “I was so happy but at the same time, the guilt was lying in my stomach. It made me sick.”

“Lady Catelyn thought I should see a maester. He’s on his way up. Please try and act normal. It’s going to be harder for me if you don’t.” Theon warned her. The thing was he knew how difficult it was for her to keep quiet when people were talking as she couldn’t help but join in and Theon would have to shush her because if she was talking he couldn’t concentrate on anything else. 

The gods had given her the same opportunity as Theon only in her life she made the choice not to go to King’s Landing with Sansa. Opting to stay in the North with her Mother while her father went away to the Red Keep with Ned. She lived a happy life then however it had been cut short when her Mother refused to submit to the Boltons' and they’d burned the whole keep to the ground. Her mother and herself managed to escape to Pentos and they lived the rest of their days there. 

“I know Not-My-Theon.” After she had seen the Seven he realized how serious it had become and how she wouldn’t want to mess it up for him. Before Theon could reply with the “Not my Jeyne” or "Not my Sansa" response, they were both interrupted. 

A knocking came from the door and Jeyne then made herself scarce. If she was there it meant an increased chance of Theon talking to her and that would be bad for them. “Lord Theon?” An elderly man’s voice called out.

“Come in Maester Luwin.” He commanded through the heavy wooden door. The man hobbled towards him. How feeble he looked but how strong he persisted to be. 

“I’ve heard you’ve taken a fall.” He said pulling out several bottles of medicine, all of which looked delicious to drink but probably could kill a man. 

“Yes. I’m fine, just need rest.” 

As much as Theon wanted to be looked at professionally he didn’t want Maester Luwin finding something that seemed to be a cause for concern. Ramsay had gone into great detail about telling Theon all about how his own men had murdered the elderly maester shortly after he had been knocked out and how if Theon hadn’t given such a shit speech then maybe he would still be alive.

He sat down on the bed alongside Theon to get down to a level both physically and mentally. The man had seen him many times over the years but this was the first time it seemed like a genuine visit. All the other times had merely been cuts and scrapes from running around with Robb or little accidents that happened at the whorehouse. No matter the pain old man was always there with words of wisdom and a smile on his face. 

The maester had tried to touch his face while looking for any head injury but Theon jerked away. Having hands that close to his face was a reminder of Moat Cailin and many time before and after, mainly Euron during the Kingsmoot. 

“You’re not letting me touch you?” Luwin was not slow. He had been around for years and years after all and knew when people were hurt they would normally let the doctor look at them. 

He may have been older than the Winterfell Castle itself but by no means was here they ruined. His mind was still as sharp as the day it left the citadel still knew a thing or two about medicine and how to properly use it.

Theon thought he might as well at least give a dog a bone and show him something he could dissect but also so that he won't ask many questions is supposed a small reddish blue bruise on his would make Luwin leave him alone for the time being. 

Gently he rolled up his sleeve so that his wrist was revealed. If you were to pull it up any higher then surely he would have been exposed. Luwin wasn't quite sure how a fall in a river could have caused a hand like mark on his wrist but the patient has shown the ailment and it was his job to patch him up.

With shaking hands he slowly wrapped a soft cotton bandage around it. He diagnosed but it was simply a fracture of the wrist bone which should heal within one or two weeks. The normal pink colouration should return and he could get on with whatever it was he did. 

The wrist was patched up quickly that they don't even get to have a conversation about anything. As he raised himself of off the bed packed up his bag off tricks he decided now would be the best time to start the conversation.

At The Dreadfort Theon and Maester Wolkan were well acquainted. He would be half unconscious during many of the visits but the times he was wide awake they would have minimal conversation. He could tell that the doctor wasn't on Ramsay’s side but he wasn't about to betray his Lord either. It was an understandable situation why piss off the man who had a flayed man as his banner?

He was a good man in a bad place. 

“My body is fine.” He reassured the man. 

Clearly, he was getting nowhere with this and if he didn’t want to be helped then he wasn't going to force him to get help. It was a difficult matter but he was sure that the man with the ailment knew his wounds better than he ever could. “I respect your wishes despite knowing something is wrong.”

“Thank you. I never said it to you before but you’ve been kind to me over the years. You’ve given me good advice I should have taken.”

Luwin didn’t do any more body work and he only looked at the supposed head bump. It seemed minimal and with rest, the swelling would go down after about a week or so there was no reason he couldn’t go about doing his regular activities. 

“Now you’d be on your way. You have to attend an execution with Lord Stark.” He saw that there was nothing else that he could be doing as he supposed he might as well let him be on his way. His pupils were normal and his head seemed to be as normal. No cause for concern. 

Theon was gone in a couple of seconds, leaving behind a very curious medic. 

Onto the execution he went. 

-

The execution had gone about as much as he remembered it.

Then there was poor Will. By the gods how he wanted to save him from the ancestral Stark’s sword. He was true in everything he said and he too understood the feeling of wanting to run away from battle. They both had run away from horrific things and he had nothing but sympathy for the lad.

He looked terrified and he was right to do so. He was surrounded by men with big swords and those who all wanted to kill him for being a deserter. All he did was tell the truth about what he had seen. He was manic screaming about the white walkers. Everyone was dismissing it as complete nonsense. 

While for everyone else there it had been rather comfortable and formulaic situation for him it had been a chilling experience. No one had ever taken the time to consider what he was saying was true. He had seen the White Walkers with his own eyes and they were putting him to the chop for it. 

Ned stood solemnly and then he did his duty as the Lord of Winterfell and he separated his head from his shoulders and watched as the body slumped over in an unnatural fashion. Bran remained stoic despite how he was probably panicking on the inside. Robb saw nothing out of the ordinary. Just another execution. Except for Theon shuddering as the sword met the bone. 

When the deed had been done there was no reason for any of them to be staying there so they made their way back to the castle and enjoyed the crisp autumn air. Winter was coming soon so they might as well enjoy what they could before the chilling snow was to set in. 

The whole group of riders were stopped however. It wasn't long before Theon realized what was causing this sudden hold-up. Theon, Jon and Robb had been behind Ned but they could already see and smell what the problem was. All of their noses wrinkled in disgust at the pungent smell of decaying flesh. 

That was when they found the stag dead in the road. Flies were feasting on its corpse and Lord Stark was the first to get off from his horse to inspect it. It was completely mutilated. 

They realized that it must have been a wolf which had done this so they decided to look about for the beast. No point in having it running around and hurting the local animals which they used for food and sport. 

The Search the for the wolf was short lived as no more than a minute after looking around they locate the corpse of the mother wolf. The smaller Direwolves were crying out for their mother who was lying slain beside them. Their small noses were trying to nudge her so they could get some of the milk or at the very least get their mother to wake up and play with them. 

All of the pups were curious to go towards Theon. It seemed he had a very distinctive smell something that was different. Jeyne had mentioned that animals could sense them so they knew where he was from and they could see her fully as well. They knew that he was different from everyone else but they didn’t seem to mind. 

Ned ordered that they were all to be slain as they wouldn’t be able to survive without their mother's guidance. Bran protested but Ned was going to be going on with the second execution that day. Jon was unsure if the pups deserved to die or not but Bran was going to cry if they were dead. 

Ned went towards putting a knife in the pup but Jon was there to put a stop to it. Theon remained silent knowing he was going to so easily murder them last time. Then again in his past life if he had disobeyed the command of his lord then surely he would have been locked away like a prisoner. 

Jon jumped in to save his younger brother a second trauma. “ Lord Stark? There are five pups. One for each of the Stark children. The dire wolf is the sigil of your House. They were meant to have them.”

Theon looked at Ned and nodded in agreement with Jon. It did seem suspicious that there would be five pups for each of the children. Along with their mother being slain. All of this may have been familiar but reliving it knowing what happened and how coincidental it all seemed was chilling. 

The pups were picked up one at a time and handed to the men for them to carry. Theon took two small ones. Ones he recognised as Shaggy Dog and Lady. Lady was perfectly behaved while Shaggy Dog was itching to get out of Theon’s arms. Holding 2 dogs with less than 10 fingers is a challenge. Robb smirked at Theon failed at getting a good hold on the scruff of Shaggy Dogs neck. 

Then it occurred to him that Direwolves and dogs were essentially the same types of creature so by reason they should have the same type of tricks that could be applied to them. Tricks they made them calmer and tricks that made then stick their tongue out with happiness. 

One trick that always worked with the Bolton hunting dogs was the sweet spot that was behind their ears. Theon pressed in and gave him a good ten second scratch with instantly made the dog more docile and sleepy. No one there realized just how good Theon was at handling the animals. Even Ned was surprised at how quickly he had tamed it. 

Robb assumed it must have been the kennel master's daughter that Theon had been with. How else would he have known?

As they decided to leave the area Jon’s keen senses noticed something rustling in a small pile of leaves in a not too far by the tree. He moved the leaves away and pulled up a little white cub by the scruff of his neck. His eyes were red. 

“That one’s a runt Jon. A little different just like yourself.” Robb said noting how it’s snow white coat made it stand out from the other pups who coats ranged from grey to brown. And its red eyes like it had come from the depths of the seven hells itself. He may have been a pup but still it intimidated him. He had only seen Ghost grown up at Dragonstone when Jon had gone away to collect the wight from beyond the wall. Ghost had nearly mauled Theon when they saw each other but the teeth soon turned to licks and kisses of affection. 

Theon turned protective of the dogs and he stated something that made both men squint their eyes with curiosity. 

“Robb don’t say that. It may be a runt now but it’ll grow up the strongest of the pack. Just like its master. Strong like a dragon.” Theon was sharp to defend Jon. 

Jon was being tricked. Or at least that’s what he was thinking in his mind. There was no way that the Greyjoy was being genuine here. Something so meaningful to him had come from the lips of a man who had previously called him a snow in every way possible, sometimes in another language. Robb also noted Theon’s defending of the bastard but passed no remarks. 

At the mention of Jon and dragon in the same sentence he gripped the antler in the wolf hard. Ned was growing increasingly suspicious of Theon at this point but there was no way he could know. He was only a young thing at Jon’s birth so he couldn’t know. How could he know the secret?

Ned then reassured himself that it was only an expression. No real meaning behind it...

With all that done they had no other business there so it was about time that they head back home before darkness set in for the night.

They kept on riding with the Direwolves in their laps.

Theon could feel them staring at him during random moments on the ride, exchange sideways glances. He was used to it as reek but these people knew him. Or at least they knew a version of him. Ned was the one who looked at him most of all. He knew he had probably overstepped a boundary by adding the dragon metaphor but it was something he couldn’t help. Jon had a right to know who he was. 

Afterall it was Jon who had helped him figure out who he was. He was a Stark and Greyjoy. If only he could have returned the favour and told him that he was both Stark and Targaryen.

All that aside there was one person who didn’t seem to care for this as she was having a much grander time. Jeyne was loving this. She had 6 small puppies to interact with and no one could tell her she couldn’t. All the men in the group were sick of the puppies happy barking at what was apparently nothing when in reality it was Lady Poole making cute faces and giving then chin scratches. And besides, it had been quite a while since she had any form of happiness. 

Jeyne had one power in this world and that was she could have a form of communication with animals. They could see her and she would play with them and command them to do whatever she wanted. Theon didn’t see this coming into play much at all but it would help in a way which he did not expect to. 

“Theon! Look at all these adorable puppies!” She said. Lady seemed to be her favourite so far. Lady was always a quiet one and even now she seemed to be enjoying her simply head pats. 

“Yes Jeyne they’re adorable. They may be pups but their still wolves. Be careful or you’ll end up mauled. ” He said looking around to her. Currently, she was drifting beside Robb’s horse and to the small pup who was soon to be dubbed Greywind. The biggest and strongest of all the wolf cubs. Theon found it amazing that he used to be so small and defenceless. 

“What was that Theon?” Robb picked up that Theon had said something but he hadn’t properly heard what it was. Theon then realized he had talked to her out loud and needed to recover. 

“I was just asking what do you think you’re one is going to be called? Don’t you listen to anything I say?” He said with a smile praying that Robb took the bait. Robb accepted it as the truth of what he had said. 

“No, as a matter of fact, I don't.” His sarcasm matching the same tone as Jon’s from earlier. “Anyway, I was thinking Greywind.” Robb looked at his wolf and he saw that he just looked like a Greywind. He seemed to be the fastest among them and he was the biggest out of all of them. It was probably the first one that had been born to the direwolf mother. 

Robb felt a small smile grow on his face as Robb began to coddle the small wolf pup. He was quite a man. So strong but he could be sensitive when he wanted to be. He was perfect. He was beautiful even when he was doing nothing that extravagant. Theon could have just kissed those sun blessed cheeks and never stopped…

Wait…

Theon stopped whatever it was he was thinking about. His mind had wandered into a place he wasn’t even sure had existed. He focused on the leather reins and the journey that was lying ahead of him. It was unusual for him to be acting in such a way but it sort of reminded him of a feeling he had felt in his youth. Around the age of a teenager and beginning to uncover his sexual feelings. 

It had been going well until he witnessed a man being beaten for sleeping with another man by a drunken guard. He forever associated with that incident whenever he saw a boy he would consider handsome. He was already beaten at Winterfell enough regularly and if he were to be caught with a man then it would only increase his pain. At least that’s what he would have assumed. 

‘It was in the past. It was in the past. It was in the past. It was in the past. It was in the past.’ He kept on trying to tell himself that but abuse was something very difficult for him to overcome. Ramsay had taken that away from him as well. He and the guards made sure of it. 

“Very good.” Might as well thinking of Greywind and how cute he was to take away from his more dreary line of thinking. After his smooth recovery, they rode in silence. Theon was back home and he felt like things were going to be okay. There was a silence only filled by the sounds of the horses and the dire wolf pups playing with each other and growling quietly. 

He was going to be able to do this okay.

Theon smiled and looked back at everything that he had right now. Jon and Robb were talking happily, Ned had a look on his face that told him he was thinking about his blue rose wearing sister and the others were looking out for any more danger that could be lurking in the bushes. 

Things were going to be turning out okay from now on….

Or...

At least it what he had hoped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Yes I know show!Theon has light brown hair but I’m a sucker for white haired Theon regardless of what media it is in. I tried my best to read through for mistakes.


	3. The Training Yard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a certain situation unfolds with Jon, Theon begins to question himself and his feelings for his best friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Theon is Bi. Prepare for the first of many discussions of it. Also, one thing I'm gonna say now is that my events are altered a little bit so feel free to ask if anything is confusing. A sort of Panic attack happens in this chapter.

Everything was going pretty well in the adventures of Theon Greyjoy and Jeyne Poole. He was adjusting rather well to the past and things seemed to go swimmingly. They had mastered their communication with each other and had clear non-verbal signs for when other people were about. They were going through the past life as if nothing was different. 

In his time when Theon had no one bothering him, he would be exploring the castle and rediscover all the things he had forgotten about it like how soft the Horses hay was and how much the smell of the blacksmith made him happy. Simply being back in the past made him feel alive. 

To himself he was happy but to the people of the castle, they noticed this drastic change. 

However, will they thought they were being discreet everyone seemed to notice a certain change about the boy. Instead of being cocky and confident he was now quiet and often his name would have to be called at least twice before he would respond properly. And certain words would put him on the edge even if there was a perfectly reasonable context behind it. “Pet” and “Reeking” seemed to be the two that would make a sweat begin to form on the top of his forehead. 

And it was not only the humans who noticed this. It seemed that the dire wolves could sense who he was and Theon knew that the dogs knew. He tried to keep his distance but Grey Wind seemed to be particularly affectionate to him and had no problem climbing on him at any given moment. Robb felt a pang of jealousy that his dog was spending so much time with his best friend but Theon didn’t seem to be enjoying it one bit. Lady also wanted to protect the boy. 

Robb would see how much Theon was shaking after his dog had managed to pin him down and slobber his wet tongue all over Theon’s face. 

Robb thought that his head must have hit the rocks hard for Theon to call Grey Wind by a girl’s name. Kyra, he remembered it was. He didn’t know anyone named Kyra so it must have been one of Theon’s personal friends. 

A couple of close calls like this were had, however. For example when Jon and Robb were getting their haircuts and Theon was expected to strip he faked having a headache so he could wait for them to be finished first and he was able to bribe the barber not to say anything about his mutilated body and multitude of deep scarring to his torso and back. Especially his back. Jeyne always kept him in line during these times. Letting him know what he could and couldn't do. 

Though the giant axe shaped mark did raise some concern but Theon glared him down so hard he didn’t want to ask any questions. It was unusual for him to be scary to someone. 

Jon did noticed the barber with a nice bag of coins on his belt when coming out of the room. He wondered why in the seven hells Theon was paying the man but he assumed it was for some future trick he was going to be pulling on one of them, most likely him. Maybe giving him a haircut which would make Ned mad. Maybe dying his hair white. 

Jon assumed this was him trying to pull a boyish prank but it wasn't going to work. 

He was a bastard and Bastards didn’t get nice things. They didn’t get lands, they didn’t get good wives and they certainly didn’t get invited to special events. 

Special events such as the king and Queen’s banquet that was going on right now. 

Jon had only gotten a small peak but he could tell that the dinner was going to be enormous. He was right. The dinner was extravagant. It was made for the Royals and both Theon and Jon couldn’t remember the last time he had seen so much food in one room. At this point in the timeline, the Baratheon King and his Lannister Queen had arrived in Winterfell and it was currently the feast they had in his honour. 

It was at the moment where Arya had already been sent to bed for throwing food in Sansa’s face and all over her dress. Theon hadn’t even noticed until she heard a sharp cry of ‘ARYA!’ from her lips. Theon had actually laughed at this and he forgot how good it felt to laugh again. Robb picked up his younger sister as though she weighed nothing at all. It made Theon impressed at how strong he was, then again before Ramsay he probably could have done the same thing. 

Robb was away doing that now so he had a moment to himself, and by himself, that meant he could speak to Jeyne without raising suspicion. As long as he did it quietly and kept his lip movements minimal he would be okay. No one had their eyes on him which was a very nice change. 

The hall was abuzz with smells and sounds. The strongest being the roasted food that was presented on every single table there was. The stench was only matched by the sharp mead and wine that were presented. The wooden cups were all being thrown on the ground by people demanding more and more like the gluttonous men they were. He looked over to Cersei and he could see her sipping away at her wine. He had a sudden loss of appetite upon seeing the smirking vixen in her dress. He was sitting there knowing what evil she was capable of and what she was going to do. She was sitting right beside someone she would soon despise. 

Then there was her soon to be husband and his psychopathic uncle. Euron obviously would have tried to have Cersei killed the first moment he could but it was likely Cersei would try the same thing once the war was done. 

They could have ruled the world if it had been arranged in their youths. He was a mad dog but with Cersei holding the lead then they would have been unstoppable. She was a pshycopath but so was he. They were made for each other. When thinking of Cersei and who she would pair well with his eyes just so happened to wander over to her brother who was just seemingly about to leave the hall for whatever reason. 

He passed no remarks yet but at some point, he knew he’d have to talk with him. Perhaps when he was captured at the battle of the Whispering Willow. The King Slayer. 

A deep desire he had was to remark at Cersei but he knew that would only bring trouble for all of them. She killed so many by betraying the North. She killed entire houses for her own personal agenda. She had even kept Ellaria Sand alive so that they would be able to torture her with her daughter's constantly decomposing corpse. Even by Bolton standards, it was pretty harsh. The worst part was there was little blood involved. She was whittling Elleria down to nothing once her child was dead. A fate worse than death.

And yet Theon could understand her motives. After everything, she had been through with Robert and her children and Tywin. Anyone would have gone mad as she had after that. Maybe it would be the best option for everyone if they simply didn’t speak. He remained silent. 

Jeyne spoke. 

“This is quite the party. I can’t remember the last time I was in a hall this big. There’s happiness everywhere.” At least fifty big grins he could see in the halls. He had smiled lots of times since being free from Ramsay, mainly after the beach fight. His smile was coming more naturally now. 

Jeyne seemed invested in this two and then Theon remembered how there was a version of her in the universe. Currently, she was helping Sansa be presentable once again, in front of the royal prick Joffrey. Poor Sansa seemed like she had been on the verge of tears at such an embarrassment. 

“There you are. Beside Sansa.” Theon said as he pointed towards the girl who was helping to clean Sansa up from the gruel that had been thrown upon her now reddened cheek. 

Jeyne, who was always moving about, was so shocked at the sight that her skin and bone body refused to move. “Is…Is that me?” Jeyne said looking at the innocent girl sat beside Lady Sansa. Though she had no need for breath she was holding it tightly, not letting even the slightest gasp go. She was wearing a small petite dress while she had brushed clean hair. Everything she wasn’t. Their faces may have had slight differences but they were undoubtedly the same person. Only one hadn’t experienced such horrors of the real world.

This Jeyne had something that the other one didn’t. 

Naivety. 

Theon nodded. He would have said it out loud but he knew the trouble that it could cause.

Jeyne floated towards her and brushed her seared fingertips across her hair. She felt nothing of course but this made her sign in a defeated tone. “Wow, I look so happy.” Before she looked back to Theon she looked down almost trying to piece everything together. “What happens to that version of me?” She knew that things were different so that maybe this version of her didn’t have to go through hell. Her cheeks were aglow with a rosy tint and she still had some meat on her bones. The complete opposite of her in her current state. 

Theon had to think back to what had happened to her as he never really thought about Sansa’s friends. He remembered how Sansa had gone but Jeyne had stayed behind and it was only her father who had went. He couldn’t have been completely sure but he couldn’t leave her without an answer. 

“I believe you stayed here in the North. I assume you still live with your family. Your father went to King's Landing with Ned.” He said quietly knowing what a stab in the back that it must have been to hear about how she was safe and happy while she had been forced to Ramsay's version of hell. Theon knew that it must have been a lot to take in so he decided it would be best not to bring up the fact that her father in this universe had been murdered by Lannister scum during Ned’s arrest. 

“I never went to King's Landing.” Jeyne had to repeat it for herself to make sure it was correct. Her body language changed dramatically. Theon had no idea what was happening but he wanted to hold her however given the situation he restrained for the time being. 

“You have four sisters.” Theon added subsequently adding more shock onto her own face. In her old world she had been an only child and the loneliest one in the world it would seem. Her eyes should have been welling up with tears about how unjust this was. Theon wasn’t expecting an excited tone in her voice. 

“No! Really? Where?” Jeyne asked excitedly. She didn’t so much as it as more she exclaimed it. 

“They’re not here but you do. They’re probably back home. Your mother in this world was only capable of bringing in girls into the world.” When Theon said this it took a moment but Jeyne’s expression grew dark with a bitterness he never knew existed within her. One that left a chill running down his spine and a slight agitation of the wrist. A contrast to what she had been feeling moments ago. 

“Maybe one of them could have gone to Ramsay instead. They should have been hurt instead of me. He would have made them his bitches. He would have cut them instead. They could have been forced to fuck you instead of me. They could have been forced to fuck those dogs instead of me.” Her feelings were unclear but maybe they were meant to be that way. 

Theon spat out the drink of brewed wine and watched as it splashed down on the table, leaving several red stains in the wood. Spilt wine often meant a beating for him but he had no time to think about that now, Jeyne was clearly having her own mini-crisis. He had and gained several odd looks in the process from around the table. Jeyne did not care and her hand was placed on the table. Theon could see how much it was shaking. She would have let her own mother take her place if it meant she wouldn't have to go through Ramsay again. 

It wasn't always her way of thinking but she had been broken to such an extent that sometimes her mind would go to a very dark and dreary place. Sometimes even darker than that of Ramsay’s.

Theon knew Ramsay was twisted but for him to do something like that sounded more extreme. He would have never had his dogs do something like that as he always prefered to get the job done for himself. Ramsay was a man of assurance and he would do the job himself. He rarely trusted others to do jobs for him unless they were his bastard boys. In Jeyne’s world had Ramsay forced the version of him to assault her? 

Theon said her name as silently as he did a prayer. 

She came back to her senses and it caught up with her what she had just said. Regret was strong and quick to come to her mind. What she had said in such distaste. “You must forgive me.I’m sorry sometimes I just- I just sometimes think that I would have given anyone else to have taken my place. Even my own sisters. I know I'm sick but it's true.” Jeyne was on the verge of tears but her being a lady could compose herself. She screamed but no one else could hear. 

He pitied her. She was just like the women who Ramsay had hunted with Myranda but only she was brought back from the brink of death every time in order to procure him an heir. A twisted fate for one who seemed to be a natural born lady. Theon looked back down at his cup wondering how the world could be so unforgiving to them. 

“I get why you’re like that but that’s not a good way to be. I stayed with Ramsay so my sister could escape when she came to rescue me. I betrayed her but she didn’t realise that I was saving her by doing so. At least I think.” He said taking another swig to drown the nerves. 

The memories were starting but he would not let himself lose his composure again. He drowned himself once again in his drink. Only for him to get it down his clothes and the cup was slammed down on the table. More and more people began to gaze at him but he wasn’t sure whether they were assuming he was drunk or not. Thanks to the purple looking stain on his clothes they seemed to think along those lines

“What happened?” Jeyne asked curiously as to what his experience with Ramsay was. It was going to be similar to his of course but maybe if she was able to hear another one's tales then perhaps she would be able to forget about her own miserable experiences. 

“I was broken at that point. She tried to save me then she left at the first sign of danger. I...I...abandoned my sister. Oh, gods, I was so scared. I tried...I tried....I-I-I-I can’t do this.” Theon didn’t know where the sudden overwhelmed feeling came from but it was stabbing him in the chest like a pointed dagger. Jeyne mentioning her experience was probably what triggered it. Brief moments of being thrust back into the deepest pits of his memories of his hell. 

At least five men were staring at him and more were beginning to look over. Some thinking it was simply nerves, others thinking he was finally going mad, most thinking he was just drunk already. Catelyn only saw from afar but she could see that something was going wrong with the boy. Cersei being the uncaring creature she was just assumed the lad had too much to drink and ignored him as she did the others. The two ladies resumed talking while Cat’s eyes kept on glancing at him. 

Alas, Jeyne had opened the floodgates and while he may have been excused by Catelyn at the breakfast beforehand now he had to excuse himself before he vomited in front of all of them. Without alerting anyone he hastily made his way out of the room and into the courtyard where everything would have been nice and quiet. 

“Theon wait!” Jeyne reached out for him but if she followed she knew she would only be making things much worse for him. Space was needed and she was more than happy to allow him to have it. She was also comfortable because she was aware he wouldn’t break the rules. She took a seat where he had been and looked around her eyes never leave the two girls. 

Her eyes never the small happy maiden. 

She began to weep. 

\--------

He hadn’t the slightest notion of where he was running to. 

While his mind let him think that he had run very far in reality he had only gone a couple of meters. After Theon had run out of the hall and when he was out of view of the people, he found himself in the stables and found the nearest pail he could to throw up in. It was a violent wrenching but it was good to get it out of his system. He was good at handling stress but he could differentiate the types of stress. The Bolton’s stress made him go into the unfortunate second mindset, Yara stress would leave him grinding his teeth. This stress however was causing him to be physically ill. 

He wrenched as if something was coming up however nothing ever did. Perhaps the wine but it was mixed with the other contents of his stomach. The taste was something he could never become accustomed to much to his dismay. It stung his tongue and the aftertaste was something he wished he could wash out. 

After about two false gags on the third gag was the one that got it out of his system. His entire body swayed once he was done. Finally, he was able to breathe yet again. 

He covered it with some of the straw that happened to be nearby for the horses and other livestock that roamed around. The smell of sick was common around the stables but Theon felt a compulsive need to hide things. When he was satisfied with it he leaned on the blacksmith's anvil to take a moment however it seemed like these days he could never get a moment alone to him and him alone. 

Footsteps approached behind him and he tried to cease the sickness. Thankfully he had years of training so he was fine at appearing normal. An animal response for him was to pull out his knife and threaten whatever guard dared to come close to him but as he looked up he figured that he could put his dagger away for the time being. 

“Greyjoy? What are you doing? The celebration is still going on.” 

Jon’s eyes looked down upon him in a state he had never seen him in before. Theon drunk was a bigger flirt than anything else. And the alcohol would not start to work until much later on into the evening through the stain on his clothing was quite misleading. Theon looked a lot worse for wear. Face drained of colour and showed how thin his cheekbones looked. There was a look of terror upon his face. Theon’s hands grabbed towards Jon and latched onto his cloak. A couple of murmured negatives came out and he sobbed deeply. 

Jon patted him on the back and he tried to stop the hysteria coming from him. And sure enough he started to tell him it was alright and that seemed to soothe his soul. Jon had no idea what was going on but calming him seemed to do the trick. He hadn't had to use this trick since Bran’s last night terror. 

He calmed down after a minute. 

“Jon, what are you doing here?” He asked. Out of all the places that Jon had to be in the entirety of Winterfell he just had to be right there. Jon was always in the way but this time he was really stretching it.

Jon had a look of puzzlement on his face. He thought it should have been common knowledge that since his status as a bastard was still known to everyone. Greyjoy had no problem making a mockery of it in the past so some small amount of insult was felt by him asking why he was there and not at the feast. “I’m not allowed in the hall. You should know that. I think the better question is what are you doing here?” 

With his skeletal like face now showing he spoke somberly. “Am I not allowed to get a little overwhelmed?” Theon said instantly regretting his actions and tried to hide himself as much as possible. 

“About what? You’ve always been a whore for the attention of girls and in there is where the most girls are.” Jon joked. Theon would have responded except that girls were no longer in his interests. Or boys for that matter. He felt nothing in terms of sexual drive. He was surprisingly okay with that however. Romance was still alive in his heart but he wouldn’t dream of trying anything like that. Every day he was thankful he was alive and sure he was missing a couple of parts but better than not having anything. He had proven himself a man time and time again. If he was able to get a group of Ironborn soldiers to follow him on a rescue mission then he was a capable leader. 

“They don’t interest me anymore. Well they do but I'm branching out. Expanding my horizons.” Theon admitted honestly. While Theon thought he was not being suspicious Jon could tell from a mile away that something was wrong. He had slept with every whore in the North and their mothers so it was out of character for him to just give up. 

“You’re a …pillow biter now?” He asked gingerly not wanting to provoke an angry reaction at what he was implying. When Jon asked this Theon’s mind cracked further and another ugly crying noise emerged from him. He hated himself but while he had admitted he was a dual Stark and Greyjoy there was a little part of him that was always going to belong to the family named Bolton. It confused him because in his Reek mindset he really managed to convince himself that he did love his master. It was twisted but he couldn’t deny it. Making his master proud was something he craved to do when he knew he was going to get praise afterwards. 

That's the word that Ramsay always used. 

During Ramsay’s torture, sexual content had been a decent portion of it, flaying was always the biggest part of his torture. Aside from the obvious castration process, he had been under Ramsay’s weight more times then he could remember and of course he was forced to please him in any and every way possible. If he was in the mood the guards would be allowed in on the fun. Fun if one would even call it that. 

Sansa had lightened this burden for him when she arrived but he still couldn't stand to watch it happen with her. She was still only a child in his mind. ‘It should have been me on that wedding night.’ He thought bitterly. 

The frost that was around them was making the ground rather hazardous as this chill was picking up. Winter was coming. Which would end up being a problem for the both of them. 

Jon came in close but Theon tried to stand up at the same time so when Jon got close he accidentally slipped on a particularly frosted part of the ground, a slippery part. The result ended up with Jon lying on top of Theon, their faces inches apart and the only heat they felt was each other's’ breaths. This sent his anxiety overboard and it became nearly impossible to tell the difference between reality and the past. Jon’s shocked face dissolved into Ramsay’s sick sadistic smile and his eyes transformed from brown into the blue depths of despair he had seen so many times before. His eyes almost glazed over and he went completely limp for a second. 

The position was too much for him and he nearly yelled the whole castle down. And he probably would have been heard had it not been for the sound of the feast going on inside the great hall. Jon was the first to get off him 

Some of the workers who were currently outside came over to inspect the commotion but were surprised when they saw Ned Stark’s supposed bastard getting up of Theon who was still laying on the ground quite visibly breathless beneath the bastard with dishevelled clothes. Many people saw this and made their assumptions. The people made haste to leave and when Jon looked back Theon was gone from his original position. 

“Get away from me!” Theon's body curling up against a small support beam and trying to stop his mind replaying the images. His nails grew shorter as he bit them with a ferocity and some of his hair fell out as his long spindly fingers combed their way through his hair in order to differentiate past and present. 

“I’m sorry. I never meant any harm.” Jon apologized quickly praying to the gods that he would end this embarrassment and stop drawing attention to themselves. Jon had never been scared of the Greyjoy before but this was frightening him. He wondered if possession was common in the North. 

“Don’t touch me. I can’t bear to be touched.” Theon raised his voice once more but not the extent he had during the initial panic. Hands threw down at his side and edging away from Jon snow at every available chance. 

Jon wouldn't have come near had he known what a stir he would cause. Then again something terrible must have happened to him for him to react in such a state. “What? Why?” Jon asked with concern. 

“Jon. I can’t explain it but I don’t like being touched anymore.” In his time he had mastered the art of being okay with minor touches. Like a murderer, he was able to bury it deep, deep down. He could be steadfast and channel his ancestral Greyjoy blood.

He did something rather silly that he knew Yara would mock him ruthlessly for. He would think of himself as the captain of a ship. His own ship. Where he was in control of everything and he commanded everyone on board. He was in control. He had mutinied Ramsay Bolton and he was the commander now. The Bolton was now but a prisoner thrown deep into the abyss of a cargo hold. 

This gave him a little bit of control and he was able to completely change his face to that of a calmly collected human. Almost as if his panic attack had never existed. 

This sparked something inside Jon. It was something so horrifically horrible that the Greyjoy couldn’t say what had happened to him. No simple fall could cause this amount of panic. In his mind something deeper was going on and he was going to find out what.

Theon’s face was trying to stay angry to keep Jon at bay but with each scowl he faked his eyes peeled back to reveal how much he was breaking down. 

“Theon did something happen that night? Other than the fall.” Jon's mind happened to be as sharp as his sword so it was not very hard to connect the dots that the new change in personality had something to do with the change of hair. Of course, his probing was going to get him nowhere. It was just Theon’s luck that Jon never had a reason to believe in the supernatural yet. No White Walkers or Dragons or Zombies trying to kill him. Yet. 

There had only been one time he had seen people act like this and it was when a maid or any girl had been attacked and their virtue lost. There was no such thing in Westeros, or at least no record of it happening to a lord. Sure it had happened to squires and bastards but they had been in no true powerful position. In Jon’s mind there was no way it could have happened to him. He was a skilled warrior and could defend himself from anything. Right?

“You know nothing.” Theon said before once more trying to leave but Jon refused to let him by. 

“You must tell Robb if something did-” At the same time he began to speak he saw a rather large yellow marking that went all the way around the smaller man's neck. A hand mark to be precise. Evidence kept on appearing and Jon had a very interesting theory as to what happened but he would keep it to himself for now.

“I am fine Jon.” He reassured one last time. He was not at all impressed by this barrage of lies but he wouldn’t push the matter. 

Theon was fully standing up now and while everything above the torso was screaming bravery his legs were giving him away. Unfortunately, his knees were weak and the slight way they seemed to be folding gave him up. 

Jon had caused enough trouble for one night so he decided to stop with the interrogation. “Not going to call me Snow?” the mood changed by the sarcastic quip. 

Theon let everything go in that one moment and let himself laugh “Huh, no. Surprisingly. Remember what I said.” He could see Jon was trying to fix the situation but it was clear the conversation was coming to an end. Jon had remembered the day that Theon had apologized but it was now in this moment it clicked with him that there had been no hint of sarcasm. 

It was long overdue that they left each other to their own devices. Jon to go talk with the other outcasts from the party and Theon to calm himself from the party. Jon shot him one last glance before he left and Theon was seemingly on middle ground. Not crying his eyes out but he was not happy with himself either. 

Theon was swift in walking away while Jon stayed in the same spot trying to figure out what was going through that strange head of his. He was putting all of the pieces in his head together like a very complex riddle. However this was a riddle he could not answer and would need to go to someone who knew Theon better than anyone else. 

By this time of the evening most people had retired to their sleeping places or were working on cleaning up. 

And there was only one place that Robb Stark could be. 

The cold winds blowing through the Winterfell courtyard and Theon could feel them on his back. Something was about to happen. He could feel it in his bones. 

-

The young wolf was feeling like shit. That wasn’t to say he was angered or in pain. More than his insides felt like they were set ablaze and any moment his head was going to burst open from the pounding headache he was experiencing. Perhaps drinking too much of the wine hadn’t been the best idea. 

Robb wasn't sure of the time but he knew it was very, very, early in the morning. Perhaps it was still considered night time by some. He wasn't sure. He had tried to get some rest on his bed but he was so hungover that his brain wasn't going to let him rest, only wallow in this agony. He rubbed his head in the foolish hope that it would have been better. 

Currently he was in his chambers, washing his face when he heard the sharp rapping knock of the door. As he put a hand on his head he wondered who in the seven hells could be knocking at this time in the night. Or rather morning. When he opened up a dishevelled Jon was before him. By his breathlessness, he had clearly been running here so Robb ignored his migraine for a moment to see how serious it was. 

“Robb can I talk to you?” Jon asked Robb quietly as to not wake anyone who could be in their slumber. Robb looked him up and down but nodded. What he wanted at this time of the morning was a mystery to him. 

He would have come while Robb was still at the celebrations however when he had left Theon he was anxious to work of all the stress from their conversation so he decided to try some sparing before going to Robb about it. Then Tyrion had come along and then uncle Benjen. He had almost completely forgotten about it until he saw Theon carefully walking back to his chambers. His odd stance was what triggered the memory. He walked with one of his arms curved and outside, almost as if he was leaning on someone for support. Someone who he couldn’t see. Perhaps he had gotten that drunk he imagined that someone was there. 

“Of course Snow.” 

If Theon were here then he would have found it very uncomfortable. Theon now had so many reservations about calling him by that name yet Robb who had always been his friends had no problem calling him that despite knowing how much it made him feel uncomfortable. Jon was feeling the exact same way about it. 

“Is Theon okay? I mean he’s acting unusual.” Jon said. It was an understatement but that was the lightest way he could put it without making Robb feel like he was being an un-observant friend. 

Robb’s face was twisted for a moment. It was on the tip of his tongue but he abandoned what he was about to say. 

“He says he is so I’ll take his word for it.” Robb said. He too had noticed the odd change in his behaviour but then again he just brushed it off as Theon going through a personality change. Sort of like the knock on the head physically knocking some sense into him. His mother had wanted to believe this too but 

Also a little bird had told him that he hadn't allowed Luwin to properly examine him which was very unusual in his mind. Why wouldn’t he want a doctor examining him unless he was trying to hide something? A hostage trying to hide a secret was a major scandal if it were to fall into the wrong hands. 

“I think more happened then he said.” Jon knew that Robb sometimes didn't get things the first time around so he made sure to emphasise his point. It wasn't that he was slow or dumb, it was just he got so focused on specific emotions that he would forget that he would have to consider the logical aspect of it as well. 

Robb's teeth began to grit at how Jon was saying he didn't know something was wrong with his best friend “What like?”

“I don’t know. Try touching him and you’ll see what I mean.” Jon said as if he was stepping onto thin ice knowing how weird that sounded without any context. 

Robb had now completely forgotten about how bad his headache was and now fully had his attention on the intention of his father's bastard. 

“What in the hells were you two doing?” Robb said half joking, half serious that something had gone down between them. If it was the latter he never would have taken his half-brother and spiritual brother for being attracted to men. Then again if someone like King Robert’s younger brother had relations like that he supposed it was more accepted in the North. 

Then again there were some Northern people would kill another for doing something in bed with a member of the same sex. Robb was against this line of thinking. Men were needed and they didn't need to be fighting each other. 

He believed that everyone should be free to do as they like with however they chose. 

“Nothing. I accidentally fell on him and he was acting fanatical. I saw a hand shaped bruise on his neck.” Jon mentioned as well assuming Theon had not told Robb about it. It was also strange to him how at the breakfast after his hair had gone under a radical transformation that Theon seemed to be wearing very high necked clothing since. 

Robb stopped looking at Jon as his eyes cast downwards to the floor. How could Theon not have mentioned something like that? Then again he was wondering how he hadn’t seen it before. 

“He never said anything about a bruise like that… I’ll talk to him.”

Robb was trying to remember anything about Theon having a bruise on his neck but then he remembered that Theon had started to wear lots of things around that area, things he wouldn’t normally wear. This wasn't making sense and honestly, it struck a little bit of fear into Robb knowing that Theon was keeping secrets from him like this. 

“Also he’s been acting nicer to me. He refused to call me Snow. He respected me and he was being serious. He was terror-stricken.” Jon hadn’t expected to get this emotional about it but he couldn’t help it. This was the first time he had found that in his adult life someone treated him with respect and saw him for more than what he was. 

“Theon crying? That’s a sight I’d like to see.” Robb joked as he put another layer over his nightshirt. Jon’s hand slamming down on the table made Robb stop everything. As soon as he realized how loud he had been he retreated back into his normal calm stance. 

“This is serious.” Jon was not in the joking mood and was annoyed that he was more concerned then his best friend was meant to be. He tapped his fingers against the table in a repetitive fashion. Robb took a note of this. 

He supposed that he and his friend didn’t talk about it. Then again it was more a case of Theon changing the damned subject every time he brought it up. 

“Alright. I’ll talk to him.”

Jon was relieved when Robb began to take it as seriously as he was. He still held a lot of contempt for the Greyjoy but he couldn’t deny that the newer version of him was better than half the other people who resided in Winterfell. Jon didn’t think that he’d ever been able to forget the howl that escaped from Theon in that one moment. 

Robb got up and seemingly the stress of knowing Theon was in pain took away from his hangover and he felt like he would have been able to walk to Theon and not wobble all over the castle. 

Jon nodded and left Robb’s room to get to his own bed. He was exhausted and he felt like he deserved a good long nap. He had a lot to think about with the Night’s Watch and everything. 

\--------------------------

Theon had found Jeyne in Sansa’s room of all places. 

He was walking around and whistling as saying Jeyne randomly around the rooms may have been considered a little bit odd. She was sitting on her bed and looking around everything. Her back was turned to the door and she had been looking at something. Something that reminded her of her childhood innocence. Theon almost didn’t want to interrupt her but he had a feeling he wanted to check up on how she was doing. 

When she heard him she was quick to leave the room. Her face had a slight wetness around the cheeks. Her eyes may have been red with crying but it seemed that now she was beginning to get over the sadness so now they were at a neutral pink shade, perhaps the colour of snapdragons.

Jeyne could sense that stress was high within him. To her surprise, he hugged her and had continued to hug her for a while. She had not protested. There was a lot they both needed from this and they were happy to indulge each other in consensual boy contact. It was what they both needed and both were grateful for it. 

They made a couple of steps journey back to their room and he locked the door. They could finally get a single moment to talk in peace without worrying about what others must have been thinking. 

Theon opened his mouth to speak but not before another sound took their attention away. They had been interrupted when a knock on the door came through. It was a louder knock then Luwin's had been. It was a younger, stronger man. 

“Theon.” Robb paused. “Are you doing okay? I didn’t see you during the dinner. I left Arya back and you were gone.” Robb’s voice had been muffled thanks to the locked door. Theon felt guilty about forgetting Robb but he couldn't really help it. It had needed to be done. 

Theon opened the door for him and allowed him into the room. Theon had seemingly changed his room a bit. For one thing there was significantly more fur lying around. And there was food all stashed away in a corner almost unnoticeable had it not been for the flies buzzing around it. It was a little weird for Robb but he supposed people often did things that made sense to them and them alone. 

Both of them sat down together on the bed to have their talk. Jeyne could see how close they were. A little too close to be normal. 

Theon once again resumed his facade of pretending to be okay. “I’m fine Robb. Me and Jon just had a bit of a misunderstanding.” Theon knew himself how odd and deliberate the wording sounded. A moment of awkwardness filled the air before anything else was said. 

She should have been able to assist him in any way that she could but she didn’t know how and besides there was a point of curiosity within her to see how he handled the situation. Maybe she wanted to learn a thing or two or perhaps she simply wanted to see if he was capable of standing on his own. 

Robb was not going to let his best friend be that vague about it. Especially after what information Jon had mentioned to him. 

“Misunderstanding?”

 

“He fell on me. It was fine. He just slipped on some ice or something.” Theon remembered the coldness of the ice that had formed on the ground. He felt the coldness seeping through his clothes and onto his back. The ice was nice and cold and refreshing on his back. The scaring on his back was relived. 

Seeing no other way of getting to him he saw no option but to bring up the most damning piece of evidence. He hated doing this to his own best friend but they wouldn’t be friends if he didn’t get to the bottom of it. 

“Jon saw a handprint on your neck.” Robb brought up to see how Theon would react to his knowledge of it. 

A hand went subconsciously to his neck and pulled up his tunic to make sure it was properly hidden. Robb was noticing every single thing he was doing to cover his marks. Theon, on the other hand, was a different line of thinking. If he had known how much quick thinking was going to be involved he would have planned much further in advance and maybe even scribed some notes for himself. Memory was such a tricky thing for him. 

The mark was still blue. It hadn't been a Ramsay mark surprisingly though Theon could have mistaken it for one if he was having delusions. It had been a Euron mark that had been given to him in the midst of their battle. Their battle had been the fiercest Theon had ever been in. He had grabbed him by the neck and threw him down on the ground like a discarded doll. Euron made the air escape from his lips and he would have squeezed even harder except for one singular trait that both Ramsay and Euron shared. 

They both were psychopaths. 

Euron had made the grave mistake of wanting to savour his victims final moments. Theon had used grab a nearby log and use this to shove Euron away. A part of the stick had even managed to mangle his eyes. Though he had lost the fight he still got many victories. 

Now all he needed was a lie that could get him a victory right now. 

“I’m going to be honest. There was a girl...On my nightly walk I came across a girl being harassed by a couple of drunkards. I couldn’t let her be harmed so I stood up for her. We fought they...beat me around for a bit. Stupid of me. I told them who I was and whose protection I was under. That sent them on their way.” Theon was making up this bullshit at an extraordinary rate.

“However when I went to help the poor girl up I slipped on the riverbank and fell in. I really did wake up there however.” Theon didn’t know where this babble was coming from but it seemed to be working as Robb looked thoroughly convinced that his story was ringing true. Theon would have said that he was being gullible but then again he suppose that was the one good thing about this whole situation. 

“Why did you not mention any of this?” Robb was pissed at his friend. He could have had a way worse injury that could have affected him. 

“I didn’t want to make you know how weak I was. And a ward going for a walk was enough to cause an alarm.” The Stark’s face dropped. Any anger had dissipated into thin air. The tone and utter defeat in his voice almost made him want to grab him and tell him how strong he thought he was. 

Robb couldn't believe this. Theon thinking himself weak? Why would he think himself weak after a fight with some drunkards? In which he defended the honour of a young girl. If anything he should have been boasting about his achievement at breakfast instead of telling lies about it. 

“You’re my brother and I’ve seen you with a bow and arrow. You’re one of our strongest warriors and just because you lost one fight does not make you weak. I’m glad I know the truth now. Do not keep secrets from me.” 

Robb was hurt but at least now he had the full truth. He thought the secret might have been something a lot worse but it turned out not to be. They could move on from the incident without further damage. 

It was uncharacteristic of him to keep secrets in this way but given the circumstances, he understood why he did what he did. If only Robb had been that understanding in Theon’s previous life. Dull brown eyes looked up towards Robb’s blue and he showed he was bathing in his praise. “Jon made it sound a lot worse.” 

“I think you’re a fool. A brave fool.” Robb said hoping that a bit of playful banter would change the mood and move it forward. 

“And I think you need rest. You look like horse shit.” Theon told him. Now that they had that all talked out it was about time they get to sleep. Tomorrow was another day that Theon didn’t want to waste. 

“I feel like horse shit brother.” He rubbed his throbbing temple. Robb was by no means a lightweight when it came to drinking but he had gotten a little carried away without Theon there to control his consumption. 

Jeyne was witnessing this event but she was staying hidden from Theon as well. There was something going on between the two of them and she wanted to place what it was. Something about the way Theon looked at him was something that Jeyne had not seen much of. It was a craving of sorts. A longing feeling to be with him. To her it seemed that surely there could be a romantic attraction on the Squids half. It was a gaze of unbroken devotion, begging like a dog to a master for forgiveness and an eagerness to do right by him. 

In fact from Theon’s perspective at the moment he began to study all of Robb’s features. How many small scrapes were on his face. Each and every freckle was like a small window of hope. As it happened he had restrained himself from reaching up and touching his fluffy brown locks for it would have been awkward and given the situation with Jon he could already tell he was having doubts about his sexuality. 

Theon had always found that he was more attracted to females however he could never deny that there were occasional time when he saw a good-looking bloke that he thought he would like to take to his chambers and while he had been tempted many times he wouldn’t want to compromise his reputation and there was the entirely real possibility of word getting back to his father about his activities and he could be disowned from any claim to the salt throne. It may have been accepted by the Ironborn but Balon wouldn’t stand for it. 

It dawned on him like the light rising over the horizon of the snow-filled North. He was already going to die. He was going to defy Balon’s orders anyway so it seemed there was nothing keeping him back from being open about his interests in partners. 

Being gay on the iron islands wasn’t a crime by any means but there was the problem of him being the heir to the throne at this moment. He could have male lovers for sure but he needed to be beside his queen. 

“What did he say?” Worried what Jon had told him. How much had Robb heard about how he feared that Jon was a completely different bastard. 

Robb felt weird saying this sentence seeing as Jon would never hurt a fly unless their father ordered it. “He made it sound like you were terrified of him.”

He could see how this had come about. It was Jon’s fault only in the regard that they were both snow bastards with black hair. It was a horrifying prospect to think that Jon could have grown up to be exactly like Ramsay Bolton. They were both bastards who were treated poorly. The only difference was Ned intervening and giving Jon the best chance he could. He wondered what would have happened if Ramsay had been raised with Ned? 

Maybe he wouldn’t have been as messed up but he guessed he would never find out. 

“No, I could never hate Jon. I mean I did once but not after I talked to him.”

Dragonstone was the turning point for him. No longer did he feel the shackles of any family tied to him. In the moment that Jon said he was both Stark and Greyjoy Theon had finally learned to accept himself and more importantly he realised that he could be both. He didn’t have to be reek or the heir to the iron islands. He was Theon and he was going to take a great pride in that. He was a Kraken that had once been a simple squid. 

Theon took a moment to bask in the memory and how happy it had made him in his final years of life. Greywind was howling from outside. Theon stopped in his memories to listen to him. 

“Huh…” Was Robb’s response. It was cryptic but thankfully it was the end of it. His nonverbal response had been more matter of factly then questioning. They were left in silence and Theon thought of what to speak about that could lighten up the mood now that all the seriousness was out of the way. 

“So...Do you think you’ll go to King’s landing? You could learn a great deal of politics and how to be a king.” Robb was already a great leader but Theon wanted to give him a small confidence boost. 

“I’m not going to become king. A Warden of the North. But I won’t go south for there must always be a Stark in Winterfell and besides I can’t stand that royal prick.” He scoffed as he imagined what it would be like to be forced to live with Joffery and having to listen to his bitching and moaning and him constantly making passes at his sister. 

“Which one?” Theon asked knowing fully well that there were three people he could have been talking about. 

“The blonde one.” Robb said trying to think about what other blonde bastard there could be. Theon’s smile grew like a Cheshire cat as he thought of the perfect response for him. 

“You’re going to have to be more specific. The Queen, her brother or their incestuous bastard prince.” Theon asked feeling his sarcastic side come back with full force. Robb’s face almost turned blue from the lack of oxygen at how much he was crying with uproarious laughter. 

“You think the Queen sleeps with her brother? And Joffrey is their son? That is hilarious.” Robb smacked him heartily on the back while recovering his senses and blatantly ignored how his back almost tense up to a point where it would cause physical hurt. He was as stressed as a food bank in a noble house under siege but he was quickly over it and was in a good place once more. 

Theon awkwardly laughed and shut up before Jeyne’s look could scorn him anymore. The noise died down and Robb got a final word in. 

“Though that does have a nice ring to it.” Robb mused out loud. 

“Robb Stark, King in the North.” It was a reality that could never come true but it was a dream that he could think about. The only way Robb Stark could be King of the North was if Sansa was to name a son after him.

Robb had always pictured himself as the Warden of the north one day. After all he was the first born son. He would be able to have a big family and rule over everything. He often took to leadership roles and he would thrive. 

Then there came the case of his best friend. What would happen when Ned were to die? Would he technically become his ward or would he finally be released? He didn’t want to dwell on it too much given his current headache but it was something he should talk with his father about. 

“I think it does too.” Theon said slightly quieter than he had been speaking.

Robb was his king no matter what. He may have supported Jon and his claim to the Iron Throne but they still didn’t change the fact that Robb had been the last king in the North. Not Torrhen Stark as the Dragon Queen had so foolishly said without thinking. 

Robb may have been intoxicated but he could read the room and he knew that things were getting a little bit heated between them. Heated not in the sense that there was anger but in the sense that the both of them were giving off a warm feeling. Before it escalated he must leave. 

“Well. I will see you soon.” Robb rose up to leave. Theon wanted to catch his wrist but he had no idea what he was doing all of a sudden. The rush of emotions left and he saved himself from doing something that would affect them both greatly. If he said something now it would have been early to confess now. If he did then Robb might have rejected him and that would have killed Theon for the second time. 

Theon swallowed back the disappointment he had caught and put on a smile. Jeyne could see how it had broken a little part of his spirit but he seemed to recover quickly enough. 

“I will see you then my King.” Theon winked at Robb and the stark being run on emotions wasn't sure how he would be able to respond to this. He was now giving off the illusion that the alcohol might have been getting to Theon and that the whole romance was just him being a sappy drunk. 

“Do that in front of Joffrey and he’ll have your head.” Robb made one last joke before closing the door. 

“Then let him have it.” Theon added, a slight flirtatious undertone to it. 

Theon had no idea where the sudden action had come from but he seemed to have instantly regretted it but since Robb hadn’t seen it then he had been able to save the embarrassment. Robb had heard but had foolishly mistaken the sound for him being tired and him beginning to slur his words in a drunken manner.

The door was clicked shut and Theon finally allowed himself to fall back on the bed and let all of the tension go from the conversation. So many emotions all at the one time. Though they hadn’t been like the panic he had felt outside they were still taking their toll and the price to pay for that toll was sleeping for a good week and hope he got some rest. 

Theon was left alone with Jeyne who was smirking at what he had just done. Theon had obviously wanted to ignore it but it was said and done. He shot her a look that was telling her to not to pursue this any further but her look said everything she had wanted to say. Her lips forming a small smile while her eyebrows raised a small amount twice suggestively. 

Finally, a moment for them to talk in privacy. 

She was smiling like a normal person. Or rather like a small girl. Something he had rarely seen on her. It was a good look for her and though they didn’t know each other he was sure they’d be able to work together as a good team. Even make each other smile now and again. 

“Well that was certainly something else to be happening wasn’t it?” She still didn’t understand what the boys' feelings were but she could see something between them. She almost wanted to stop it now. Not because she disliked either of them but because she knew how this would end for the both of them. It was their fates to die. No point in sharing anymore heartache before that time was to come. It would have been detrimental to his health. 

Her dreams of marrying a good lord were smashed the day that she was introduced to Lord Petyr Baelish. If she ever saw that man again she would make him suffer as much as she was capable of. Perhaps in this timeline, she would get a chance to do so. He may have looked different but they were still that same wretched scheming scum he had always been.

Her hatred turned to curiosity when she saw that his eyes were getting heavy and to no surprise. It was an exhausting day for all of them. Well, she didn’t get exhausted but for him in his human body it must have been tiring. 

“It’s late. You need sleep. I’ll be exploring more.” Jeyne was more curious about this Winterfell than anything else. It wasn’t just Winterfell she wanted to see. It was Sansa and the other Jeyne. Theon had a small inkling this is what she was really doing but the urge for sleep was stronger than the urge for questions. 

“Enjoy the festivities. I’ll be here. Sleeping.” His answers were becoming shorter and shorter.

Theys hared a small laugh while Theon covered himself in wolf fur and blankets while Jeyne simply floated towards the door. 

He was able to fall into a satisfying dream for once.


	4. The Woods

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theon having various encounters with people he didn't think he'd get to see again. Some good, Some bad. Some interesting...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. You know the way there's that whole bit at the end of season 1 where Robb is declared king in the North and it's a very Throbb heavy moment? Well, my USB was a little bitch and went and corrupted all of it. As well as some other stuff. Most chaps are safe but some I need to redo. I'll post the other chapters but it's gonna take a little while to get it rewritten. It was supposed to come straight after this chapter.

It was amazing of how much Theon had forgotten from his time at Winterfell. He had forgotten the day when Bran had taken his fall from the Winterfell wall, he had forgotten how Cat had gone off in secret to go visit Ned while in King’s Landing and most importantly he forgot how much he loved seeing the fire in Robb’s eyes whenever he spoke. In general he loved being back. It was hard but it was worth the price. 

That fire had come from something that started as a spark. That spark being his younger brother. Alas Bran had taken his fall from the tower and the Lannisters were already the main suspects. Cat had made her way to King's Landings under the dead of night and things were pretty normal. Tyrion had given his thoughtful gift to the young boy and things were going smoothly. If Theon was remembering correctly he had just come down from the wall visiting Jon.

The air was nippier than usual which was weird considering how much Theon was used to the cold. Then again he supposed with this encounter about to come up he was feeling a little bit cold. He'd been told to see him off seeing as Cat was looking for her childhood friend Baelish and her husband. He'd been so confident the first time around about talking to Tyrion but now he would hold his tongue and hope he'd leave quietly. 

He strided up to the imp and a lot of the same people looked younger. Tyrion was no exception to this rule. Most noticeably his hair was the golden Lannister yellow his other two siblings had. His eyes were a lot more carefree, not exposed to so much horror of war and the scar. His battle scar was non-existent and wouldn’t exist for another while. The only thing that seemingly stayed the same was the height of him. 

To put it shortly he was about to go through a lot of changes in a short amount of time.

“I’m here to see you off.” Theon said as he walked up to the guards and their horses. The last time he remembered these types of people was when he was at the Dragon pit facing off with Euron. It was quite ironic he would be discussing dwarf jokes right now if things were going to turn out as he expected. Most people said the same things as before but whenever Theon said something different things would go differently. 

“Come to see me off, Greyjoy? How kind of you. Your master doesn't seem to like Lannisters. Then again you mustn’t either given the rebellion.” Tyrion spoke as he adjusted himself waiting to see the Greyjoys reaction to having his buttons pushed. Tyrion liked doing this to people he'd just met. A sort of test of his character. Depending on how they reacted would see if Tyrion thought highly of them or not. More often then not he didn't think highly of anyone but himself. 

Theon visibly paled when he said the word master as he no longer associated it with Ned Stark, Robb Stark or any other Stark for that matter. Only one master who mattered, who he had to obey no matter what. The only name he knew it by was the one named Bolton. Theon coughed and chose silence over any words he knew he would mess up. A smile once again upon his face to hide how uncomfortable he was. 

Tyrion simply glanced over this simple discretion. With this, he knew something was up. Why on earth would a house as honourable as the Starks send someone who was the equivalent of a hostage? At least it should have been Robb but the fact that it wasn't the Lady of the House was truly shocking. He understood as the Imp of Casterly Rock he wasn't liked very much but he was still Tywin's son and they should treat him as such. Especially with relationships being tense at the moment. 

“What happened here? Where is Lady Stark? Why didn't she receive me?” Straight to the point as usual. Tyrion knew even before Theon could say a single word that he was lying. When growing up lying and surrounded by other people lying it became clear who was who in terms of honesty. That was also couple with the fact that he had heard rumours of the Greyjoys personality. 

“My lady wasn't feeling well.” Theon told him. Lying. Theon fumbled with his gloves, rubbing a thumb over where the disfigured pinky finger was normally located. The most surprising thing was that no one had noticed his lack of fingers yet. A couple of people had only managed to get a quick glance but that was about it. It wasn’t anyone who had mattered. He assumed Tyrion would be the first to notice as he was very sharp eyed and very little would slip past him. 

“Your loyalty to your captors is touching. Tell me, how do you think Balon Greyjoy would feel if he could see his only surviving son has turned lackey? I still remember seeing my father's fleet burn in Lannisport. I believe your uncles were responsible?” Tyrion provoked him further. Only instead of annoyed he seemed to be fuzzy for a moment. Theon’s head was drowning in confusion but not enough for him to disassociate. Even though Tyrion had no knowledge of where he truly came from it seemed like he was trying everything in his power to get him to break down. 

Loyalty to his captors could have meant two things but it was clear in Theon’s head which one Tyrion was talking about. 

The rebellion was surprisingly lost in Theon’s mind as he could only remember choice moments from that day. The smells being the main thing. It was a mix of burning soldiers and the dust from the falling debris of the towers. He had been but a boy at the time but his mind was still clear on one thing.

His brothers' bodies wrapped up in a Greyjoy flag but since one of them had been crushed by a falling tower it was more like the filling of a meat pie spilling out of the casing. Theon had thrown up when he saw a chunk of his own brothers head falling out. Yara had been equally distraught. 

The hysterics of his mother. Oh how she cried like a mother wolf who had lost her only pup. Theon had always known his mother to be a calm and kindly woman but in the moments he was being dragged away he was she was banging on Balon’s chest as she tried to escape his grasp. Theon could see the blood coming from Balon’s cheek as she scratched him trying to escape. In the slot of light he saw before the door closed fully she could see her crumpling to her knees and sobbing quietly into her hands as she rejected Balon’s trying comfort.

He had only seen Euron being escorted on the same ship only while he was being dropped off at Winterfell but Euron was going on all the way to exile. Euron was still a smug bastard back then only he'd been too young to see what he really was like. 

“Euron…” Theon muttered with remembrance. Unfortunately, he could no longer see any axe the same way after he had been brutally murdered the first time. With every sheet of metal he saw he could feel the metallic taste coming back to his mouth. His hand rested on his wound but he pushed through it. He could see the red seeping on his gloves so vividly he double glanced at Tyrion to see if he was looking at the same thing. He was bemused.

His death had not been in vain for he had been able to rescue his sister and that was enough for him. Euron had played a particularly dirty trick in wearing Bolton armour in an attempt to mess with his mind. It had not worked at first but the more Theon fought the harder it became to ignore it and the one time he froze was his downfall as he took it to the chest. The last thing going through his mind was how his master had a part in his death as he always suspected. 

Absentmindedly his hand went to his covered chest to his mouth and he went to wipe away the non-existent blood. For a fraction of a second he was indeed throwing up the blood from all that time ago. Though when he thought about it throwing up blood was something he was used to after being half starved at the beginning of his stay at the Dreadfort, however, he got accustomed to the feeling around 4 months in.

“What are the memories that painful?” Tyrion said seeing how odd his reaction was. Theon pulled a glove from his chest as the quip brought him back to reality. Now he truly believed that this was some sort of test from the gods to see if he would break early on. Why else would they be plaguing him with such visions of the past?

“Nothing prettier than watching sailors burn alive.” When he spoke the words kept on following and despite that Tyrion was pushing him to his limits. 

“I know what that looks like. You never forget it. Yara….” If he had a golden coin for every time he stopped himself he would be able to buy himself a castle and then perhaps start his own house. House Greystark had a nice ring to it. Or he could just get a small place in Pentos to stay. He wouldn’t mind that too much, except he’d be away from Robb. That was the dream life which he wished he could envision happening for real but like spring it was only a dream. 

Burning was a common smell around Winterfell. Most commonly around the blacksmiths, however, this didn’t stop Theon from half gagging anytime he happened to be walking past it. Out of all the things to be terrified off a smell shouldn’t have been one of them. He associated abandoning Yara with burning and he never would again. Flesh burning was also another smell that would send him into a downward spiral. It was a mix of the farm boys and everything Ramsay ever decided to light a flame to. 

Tyrion was rather into reading books and he knew exactly of whom he was talking about. The daughter of the Kraken Yara Greyjoy. Though he had never met her in person word had it that she was quite the woman. He thought that if they ever did meet she and him would get along in every respect. Hell they even had the same preference for their bed partners. As a young boy Tyrion had once fantasised about himself on an important visit to the iron islands simply yo get the chance to meet her. “Your sister? Much better than mine. Then again how long has it been since you’ve seen your blood relations? 10 years?” He asked. 

“Lord Tyrion I’m sorry you're stuck with your family.” Theon said deciding he had enough of Lord Tyrion trying to get to him and turned the question back on himself. Tyrion could appreciate what he was trying to do and since he seemed like a decent young squire he decided that he would obligate in not making the situation more uncomfortable for him. 

“No dwarf jokes? Go ahead I’m used to them. I know you are holding back as most do. Even my blood family.” Tyrion was an expert on avoiding questions or topics that he neither cared for or were interested in. About every other single person in the North had had their jokes and all that was left was Theon to have his pun ready and waiting. 

Meereen. This conversation is what it reminded him off. Theon had rather liked the place when he was in it with Yara. It was big but had so much variety. Everyone seemed free there. Everyone was friendly also which helped to calm Theon’s nerves by a lot. Then they had to go and meet the Queen and her hand. Tyrion had reminded him how much misery he had caused and will Yara tried to tell him afterwards that he didn’t deserve the way the imp spoke about him he still couldn’t help but feel his words ringing true. 

“No jokes. I apologize if I have given you the impression I would make such a remark.” Theon hoped that this would be the words that would get through to him this time. He didn’t use the word imp so he was sure to be in his good books by now. 

For the first time in their conversation, Tyrion was the one who had been stunned into a silence while he thought about what was said. 

Tyrion had to pause for a second and just look at the sheer respect he had been shown. His one sentence showed more respect then he had ever seen from his father in his entire life. And Tyrion so no sign of mockery in his tone. Tyrion hadn’t been emotional for a very long time but the boy was bringing him to have a contented smile on his face. 

“I must say all those rumours are wrong. I had heard you were a cocky little bastard but you seem...genuine... Be careful Greyjoy. Honest men don’t last long.” Tyrion didn’t want to be showing too much sentiment to an almost stranger. His reputation was already built up and he didn’t want to throw it away. Although the advice he was giving was genuine. He did want the Greyjoy to be careful as Tyrion saw the world as a rotten place and people like Theon were what it needed. 

“Robb Stark is the most honest man I know. And he's still alive.” A little too honest in Theon’s opinion. 

“He’s young and foolish. He’ll most likely be killed in battle.” Tyrion decided to shoot back. More of his little mind games. It was Ned who ruled the roost and Robb was nowhere near ready to begin fighting a war on his own accord. The experience was needed and Robb Stark was lacking severely. Theon had been taken abuse for bit too long. 

“I’ll let myself take a knife to the heart before I let Robb die. And he won’t die in battle.” Theon had been so insulted by what Tyrion was saying that he said exactly what was on his mind without thinking about the consequences of it. He could take every arrow that was ever crafted and yet he still wouldn’t be able to save him. This was going to be his biggest regret here that was for sure. 

“Do you envision yourself dying for him often?”

_‘All the time’_

Every since he had been forced to use a knife to shave Ramsay’s throat and he had learned about Robb’s death. Ramsay mentioned the exact number of how many arrows exactly had penetrated his body and what they had decided to do with the young wolf's head. How his blood had flowed like a red river and how good Robb looked after Grey Wind's head had been attached to it. Such descriptions for him and him alone. 

“You’re not going to die. You'll win the game.” Theon said. 

Uproarious laughter from everyone in Tyrion’s guards came about. Tyrion was the only one not laughing for once. In fact his face scrunched for a moment thinking this was where his joking would begin. He had to say something humerous. This conversation was going way differently then planned. 

“Why not? I’m a dwarf and I’m going to drink myself in an early grave.” Tyrion wasn’t sure whether this was an attempt to make him feel better or some misguided attempt to see what way he would prefer to die however he would amuse him for now. 

“You’re smart. And you’re honest too. If anyone should be care it is you Lannister. Honest men may die but they die a lot quicker in King’s Landing.” That was a universal statement which everyone who over the age of ten knew. Tyrion hadn’t been flattered so much in his life, not even by the whores he had decided to bed and they told him how big his cock was and that was his one main pride in his life. Knowing he could fuck whores and ladies better than any man living or dead. 

Theon’s eyes glanced towards the Stark tower where Ned and Catelyn resided. Theon bit his tongue quite literally and stopped himself before he revealed anything else. He had already had a couple of some close calls and he didn’t want to risk anything else happening by accident.

A smirk grew upon the Dwarfs face. Lots of mouths had passed word that he was exactly how one would imagine a stuck up Lord of the Iron islands however he was not as he was expecting. He seemed to have more years attached to him and his head was level. Though he seemed odd. Tyrion couldn’t quite place why he looked so skittish around him. Perhaps it was the way his hair looked brittle and thin, his eyes while normal seemed to be hiding something. Word was he was a fit and healthy young man who had hair which resembled that of a northern night. 

Then there was the other thing. The respect. Most men who met him for the first time would make some kind of remark about his height but not the Greyjoy. Considering the rest of his family he thought surely he would have been drowning in terrible deprecating humour. 

“I rather like you. You know a good person when you see one.” Tyrion left it at that. He didn’t want to pry anymore than he already was. 

Tyrion seemed ready to get going but Theon was curious to try something. He hadn’t actually realized he had the power to experiment with the people who were involved within this. He could say anything he wanted because he knew he would never be seeing them again. He could tell them how he really felt and he wouldn’t give a damn. As long as he ran it past Jeyne first then it should all have been okay. 

Thankfully they seemed to know enough about each other that she knew what he was going to ask and allowed him to proceed onwards. 

“Where are you headed?” He asked knowing full well where he was heading. 

Theon wanted to see what he said about Ros. Ros the prostitute he probably should have been a lot nicer too. They’d had an interesting relationship as they were snarky to each other but that was what made them get on so well. Perhaps she could get a better tip when he decided to visit him next. 

“Back to King's Landing I assume but you deserve something for amusing me. Here, for your next tumble with Ros. She mentioned you when I stopped on my way here. ” Tyrion mused as he reached his small hand into his pocket and searched around for something. Ros had been a talkative one. Much different from the whores in Kings Landing but different was good for Tyrion. Northern girls had much better pussy in his opinion, much fuller and more experienced. Though it was obvious they were putting on a show it was a show he enjoyed. 

When he got what he was looking for he chucked the small leather purse at Theon’s feet and Theon started at it before promptly giving it back to one of the Lannister soldiers knowing how Tyrion would refuse to take it back for himself. 

Theon’s smile was bordering on becoming an all-knowing smirk. He patted the soldier on the back and let them go on their way. Tyrion should have been insulted but the gift refusal but it meant he didn’t have to lose any money and more insight into Theon’s mind. A win-win situation as it were. 

“I have no need for your money. That type of...activity does no longer interest me.” Theon said with a quickness to his voice telling the little Lord of Casterly Rock how he wanted this conversation to end and promptly. It had been overall an emotional rollercoaster but he was glad he had done it. At least part of his mind was at rest now. 

He had made amends with two people. He was doing well but he still had a hell of a lot more to go. 

This conversation also made him realize something about his past which he regretted more than he previously considered. Part of him wished that in his younger days he had not been such a male slut when it came to sleeping with women. He often called the names and derogatory names to make his own self-worth feel higher. Now he realised that it was no way for him to act. 

With great haste, Tyrion rode off with his guards before his face would give him away. If another second was spent there Tyrion would have made a joke about him having no balls but it would be rude to insult him seeing as how he had not done the same with him. Theon was swift to turn and take flight. 

He didn’t know why but all of a sudden it seemed like his mind was finally catching up with him and 

When the last of the escorts had left the area Theon made haste towards his room. He slammed the door shut and locked it from the inside. An anguished cry escaped his lips as he half ripped open his outfit to find his wound perfectly okay and partially healed over. A second glance at his glove would reveal that there was, in fact, no blood upon it. Was he going mad from the stress? No, he had already lost his mind once so surely he could not lose it again. 

The rush of emotions weren’t helping in the slightest.

The winds were blowing Jeyne’s ghostly hair as she stood by the window. Theon could see her conflict on her face. It was a look that said she was holding back. 

Theon lifted himself up from the bed and made his wound visible to her. He could have sworn it was bleeding out as it had done before but the more he glanced the more he saw how perfectly healthy he was. “Jeyne what in the seven hells! He mentioned Euron and-.”

“Your heart no longer beats so no blood can flow however when you remembered him in that moment your mind must have fooled you into thinking you were being hurt once again.” Jeyne said as she brushed over his wound. He did not wince like she thought he would have. Mental tricks had become somewhat of Jeyne’s forte. After all living with Ramsay Bolton may have been hell but it was one of the best lessons that one could learn from. The lesson being in the art of deception. 

Theon then realized that his brain was doing this to himself. Jeyne had so much sympathy for him. There were mornings when she would be awake and her thighs were caked in bloodied bite marks and purple coloured bruises. By the gods how she screamed when she was having a flashback. Theon would comfort her in her darkest hours and she would be grateful. Theon could not begin to understand what it must have been like for her but he did his best to comfort her. 

“I thought this would have been easy but this is turning into a nightmare.”

Jeyne’s dainty hand placed itself on Theon’s back. The first and instant thing he picked up on was how rough and scabbard her fingertips felt against his skin. Now Theon didn’t mean to brag but in his past life before everything he was well acquainted with the feeling of ladies hands. They were to be kept soft at all times. In fact a rumour he had heard in his youth was that ladies of the house would keep a small bowl of honey in their chambers to keep their hands silky smooth and smelling gorgeous. Mostly for handsome lords to kiss as a sign of respect. 

Of course he knew this wasn’t true at all. Especially for Jeyne. 

Ramsay would withhold food from the girl. Theon knew that the moment he saw her in that godly hall. Apparently, the Ramsay in her world was blessed with a crueller streak then that of his Ramsay so he was assuming he did a lot of things that had already happened to him and worse. No words he could offer her would help her recover from that. 

Theon’s head nodded slightly as to let the girl know he was going to be okay now. 

“They are gods. They would not make this easy.” Jeyne sighed. No doubt the next time it would be even more difficult. Jeyne would be fascinated to see if he would get better or worse at controlling the situations. She was sure he could manage it but if he acted like this at every time then they might have a problem. 

“I’m glad I did it though.” He didn’t regret the choice to talk things out with Tyrion. Thinking further into the future he wondered how it would affect his talk with Yara. Maybe he would mention how he had acted odd at Winterfell. He hoped he’d be kind and maybe put in a good word with Daenerys. Who knows?

The next test would be in the woods with a very difficult wilding lass. 

-

Another period of time had passed. Robb was deciding whether to go to war or not. After all his father had been wounded by a Lannister soldier and the tensions were rising higher than they ever had before. The Northern men were wanting blood to avenge their wounded warden but Robb was hesitant. Theon had remembered how his initial thought process was to go to war with them but oddly enough he felt he should still stand by his original idea. He knew what the Lannisters were going to do and perhaps if they had made the first move then none of it would have happened. 

“They have my sisters.” Robb scoffed. He hated the Lannisters with every fiber of his being and if he had his hands on Joffrey he would take his head from his shoulders and force Cersei to watch from a chair. 

However one of the Lannisters had proven useful before all of this as Tyrion had been generous enough to give Bran a saddle so he would be able to ride more efficiently. Robb had mixed feelings about the imp so in his mind when he helped Stannis become the king of the seven Kingdoms he could persuade him to let Tyrion off easy. 

“We will get them back Robb. Sisters are important.” Theon said. He couldn’t help but add a sombre note to the end of it. His feet had landed in a small puddle of water that came along with some rain that must have fallen a couple of nights ago. A small splash was made and he turned his head to the side. Yara was probably doing well in the world he left behind. If he had to guess she had a beautiful woman or man by her side and she was living the good life as a queen. 

Robb could understand why and proceeded to ask a question of his best friend. 

“How long has it been since you’ve seen Yara?” Theon seldom talked about his relationship with his sister. Robb had always assumed it was because he couldn't remember much of her. Theon couldn’t forget. In his mind her features were so clear. Her darkened hair and her broad shoulders leaving very vibrant memories of her. Her well built muscles having more strength then Theon would ever have. 

His eyes looked out into the distance, he was pessimistic about being on the best of terms with her in this world. 

“A long time. Even now I would still die for her.” Theon technically had but it wasn’t by his own choice. He wished that he could have survived and watched her thrive. Maybe he’d never get to see it for himself but he could ask her in the afterlife. If she ever got there. The gods might let him visit her every thousand years if they let him. 

He had a choice to make. Either choose Stark or Greyjoy. And he didn’t have an easy way out this time. 

He wasn't going to lie to himself. It hurt Robb a little that Theon was speaking this way of his family. It wasn't that he didn’t understand Theon’s thinking it was more so that he hadn’t seen his family for over a decade and yet Theon would still give his life for them. Robb was clearly trying to find the right words to use to fully convey what he was thinking but only one thing came to mind. “Still?”

Theon had not meant it in this way. He had already given his life once for Yara so she could escape Euron’s clutches and presumably what was her own version of torture. During the final confrontation, she looked so afraid. It wasn’t a good look for Yara. He had heard only rumours about what Euron was like and he prayed that he had mercy on her compared to what he did with his other victims. There was doubt of course but he supposed none of that mattered now. In this world she was happily back at Pyke making their father proud. 

“I mean- You know.” Theon blushed at his embarrassment. Robb laughed along but more in a brotherly way. How Theon wished he knew what he felt towards him. On one hand he was his best friend and almost family but if he looked deep enough inside himself knew it wasn’t just that. It was something a little bit more he knew deep down but his internal struggle as something that he couldn't deal with at the moment. If he brought it up now Robb might call him weird for it.

Still what was just a small spark could ignite into a burning fire. 

“Yes I do. I’d die for any of my siblings. I may have to.” Robb’s head turned towards the south as he said it. Theon was a little bit annoyed by this but he remained silent. Robb wouldn't die for his siblings but he would die because of the nameless girl that he wanted to marry, because Catelyn had released Jaime Lannister. And he was weak. 

He would die because some idiot had decided to betray him by taking Winterfell for his own. 

“Robb don’t speak like that. You need to be a happy family again. Do what I can’t.” Theon was going to place his hand on his thigh but instead missed and placed it on the log inches away from it. He had no idea why he would do such a thing but luckily he was in control enough to stop it. 

“What do you mean?” Robb was confused. He saw no apparent reason that Balon would refuse to take him back. Theon knew he couldn’t say anything about the rebellion just yet. 

“Do you think my siblings are going to take me back after all these years? Err... Sibling.” He had forgotten that he only had one sibling remaining as his brothers were slaughtered in the battle on Pyke all those years ago. He found on the odd occasion he'd forget how much forgot about his home and family. Yara had initially rejected him when he had come home from his prison sentence at the Dreadfort. Then it all changed when he admitted the truth. He wanted no kings title or no land. Just a place he could finally call home. Yara still did not trust him fully until the Kingsmoot happened. 

When he had valiantly proclaimed her Queen of the salt throne and thus their sibling bond was restored. He didn’t know how she had felt after he had jumped ship after the Euron attack. She probably despised him with her whole heart. The sadistic look that Euron had was one he wouldn’t soon be forgetting. He was out for the blood of others and would pay for his marriage to Cersei with the bodies of the sand snakes. Living or dead. 

“Well, anything is possible when it comes to siblings.” He said with a smirk sat gently upon his face. 

Robb knew that siblings were unpredictable. Like Bran and Arya teaming up to steal Ned and Cat’s clothes as they bathed and dressed up like them in the main hall, bossing the servants around and pretending to be the owners of Winterfell. That was until a very annoyed pair of parents came out to scold their children. 

Theon looked around for the youngest lad of the trio while Robb kept on staring at Theon and looking at the mark on his neck which was in the process of becoming non-existent. Only if you were looking for it would you find it. Theon seemed happier but there were moments he was but a lost child. His mind was a different place and he wished he could explore what was going on in there. 

There was a silence between them and Theon looked around knowing something was amiss. The realization came as quickly as an axe to the heart. He remembered what was so significant about this day. Bran went away on his horse and he had fallen into the hands of his soon to be guardian angel. The Wildling woman. He couldn't believe he'd forgotten about it. 

 

With no warning, Theon took Robb by the wrist and dragged him in the direction bran had ridden off into. Robb did not understand until he saw the hoof marks implanted in the wet muck. He too began to panic. 

“Bran!” He yelled out into the forest. If he lost bran then Catelyn would become even more restless than she had been. She would scour ever acre of the forest and demand that every tree be brought down if it meant she would find her boy unharmed. She had already lost him once and if she were to lose him again it might have sent her spiralling down into anguished delirium, Much like Alannys had. 

When they both came upon the three they were all surrounding the boy with a slightly bloodied blade. Robb was seeing red while the blade made a breath hitch in Theon’s already panicking throat. Robb already had his sword drawn and was ready to attack the two wilding scum who dared to attack his brother in such a way so soon after he had taken his fall. They were crowded around him and clearly, they weren't asking if he was lost. Robb hated wildling scum. They made him sick. He was brought up to believe that they were savages who killed people for no good reason. 

The thick tension hanging in the air was about to ignite like a barrel of wildfire. 

That was when the fighting truly began.

Robb and the male wildling went hand in hand fighting and the had no idea what was happening because he had stormed off last time when Robb had quite rudely told him he wasn’t a member of his house. 

Punches were thrown and it was the men who were going head to head in this battle of brawn. Robb was the strongest of all but that had not deterred the others from trying to get at him. They primitive weapons were unmatched against well-forged steel. 

The fighting had made Theon delirious. His brain was doing the work but he wasn't quite aware of what he was doing. Theon drew his sword and made quick work of one of them. His sword was pulled out of his body as soon as it had been put in. It was all mechanical. 

While Theon had been distracted by this Osha had taken it upon herself to join the fight. She had lost her weapon during the scuffle but she was used to making use of the resources she had in her surroundings. A branch made a good bludgeoning tool in case a club isn't available. Robb had his back turned to her when she made the first strike. He'd watch on as Robb fell to the ground. 

Seeing Robb being hurt and he was busy dealing with the second man so he couldn’t go help him. There was only one thing he would be able to do to get them to stop hurting his friend. Something Jeyne wasn’t going to approve off one little bit. He couldn't well let him go out like this. 

“Osha stop please!” Theon yelled as she whacked a branch down upon Robb’s back yet again. 

They all stopped while Theon held out his hand. The wildings were very confused and they took a step back from the northerners fearing what the snow-haired one would do. Robb scrambled to get up and he went beside Theon with his sword still drawn and held high. Each time he took a step he gripped it tighter. 

Her knife lowered as Theon looked deeper into her eyes, and by default her soul. She spoke through her chapped lips. She bit them hard as she looked coser at him. “You know my name? How do you know my name.” Her accent was just about as thick as he remembered if not thicker. It was evident that her time at Winterfell must have made her well spoken. Well about as well as a wildling could learn. 

Theon could see only one pacifist option out of this and though Jeyne would disapprove he was not technically breaking any of the rules as he was not directly telling anyone the fate of the red wedding and no one would find out about his scars but it was bordering on exposing himself. 

“Your name is Osha. You’re a wilding. If things go wrong you’ll beg for your life, get taken to Winterfell and then at the first moment you will try to seduce someone, stab them in their bed and go as far South as you can, Dorne I think it is. If I know all this, I know why your friend should let Bran go.” He said eyes never leaving hers. 

Osha looked towards her friend and she nodded to him and they silently agreed to listen. The brutish thug dropped Bran to the ground and his body fell with a harsh thud. Robb was by his brother's side and the two wildlings had lost all interest in the Starks and instead their interests were turned to the defiant Greyjoy. Bran was trying not to show how terrified he actually was. 

“I’ve seen your types beyond the wall but never in a Lord. Suppose the light hair should have been a clue that you were cursed from birth.” She said in fear of her life. She wanted to know more about him. If she was having her life spared then she owed him her life and by wilding standards, she would have to do as she said. There was magic beyond the wall. She'd seen it with her own two eyes. The dead coming back to life as walking corpses with only one thing one their minds. Killing anyone who breathed. They all had one thing in common. The ones in charge had white hair.

Theon’s eyes did not give anything away that they could use to emotionally cripple him. Surprisingly all of the time spent at Ramsay’s callous hands had been like a septa in that he had learned a lot of lessons from him. How to hide emotions being one of the main ones along with an insanely high pain tolerance. 

He looked down upon the man and kicked him in his unguarded leg and watch as he crumbled underneath himself. Theon had once been that pathetic but he was trying his best to change his ways. Ramsay had made him feel pathetic but Ramsay was gone so he was working on getting stronger. After all that was his house words. 

What is dead may never die. 

“You. You will come to serve the Starks. Your friend will go and take the Black. Defend against the White Walkers before they come. Do I make myself clear? If you do not I will flay you living and you will feel. Every. Moment. Of it. I don’t think you’d like what happens when you feel your skin being peeled away like the skin of apple.” Theon commanded the both of them. He would channel his inner Ramsay whenever he needed to scare the hell into someone and it was clear that everyone was in absolute fear of the man standing before them. Theon felt disgusted of himself when he did this but he had no choice. 

Jeyne, who had been standing in the background this whole time was utterly terrified of what she was currently seeing within Theon’s eyes. She had wanted to say something before but everything had gone so fast ever since. 

Bran had never seen him like this. Neither had Robb. Such fury being spat out. Theon’s finger went to lightly grace the male wildlings face and this was what did it. Osha seemed more then happy at the arrangement while her friend was not so happy to be like a lamb lead to the ritual knife. 

He spat on Theon’s right cheek and then again on his leather boots. “Why should we do what you say? You’re a northern Lord. Or some kind of pale-haired demon.” Alas this had not been the first time being used to such treatment and it was a matter of wiping it away. The anger still bubbing inside him. 

Robb felt a burning rage when his best friend was met with such disrespect he was not sure if any of them would have their necks fully intact by the end of it. With his sword drawn he was ready to charge and defend his friends honour when Theon stopped him with the raising of his hand. 

“I don’t need you alive. I could kill you. I only need her.” Theon was specifically pointing to the female. He did not care what happened to the other one but as long as Osha was there to help Bran and Rickon escape that would be enough for him. 

Osha had already seen him tell personal things so what he needed her for was a terrifying concept. All the wildlings knew was the supernatural and he was reeking of it. “For what?” She asked being mindful to keep respectful but also to let him know she would not tolerate any funny business. 

Robb and Bran were looking at him to see where this was going but Jeyne was shaking her head in a worried manner. Theon found that she worried too often and although it would take some time she would get to know how careful he was being. He rolled his eyes towards Jeyne and he raised his hand with an authority that he thought had been lost to the times. 

“I’d hate to see such a pretty face wasted.” Theon said hoping his obvious lie wasn’t too obvious. He had not flirted with anyone in the longest time and the most distant memory of him doing so was when he was with that red headed whore, Ros he remembered her. 

If his memory was correct then she had been a good bedside companion and he should probably visit her when he had the chance maybe even give her some financial stability or warn her of little finger. He hadn't thought of her since his conversation with Tyrion. After all Jeyne had mentioned how minor things could be changed and he had an inkling that he could replace Ros with some other whore and it wouldn’t matter. 

There was other types of flirting involved with his past life but he refused to acknowledge it as that was just to keep the guards of the Dreadfort from hurting him more than they already did. Men in armour loved to be told how handsome they looked during sex. It was the power they hungered after, Theon could always see it.

Osha in this moment was on her knees and practically worshipping him for sparing her life. Many a myth had passed through the place beyond the wall and white hair was always seen as a bad omen, suffering and pain. The wildings had seen the white walkers so they would not chance any superstition. 

“Thank you Mi’lord.” Osha did not think for one moment that her life would have been spared yet here she was having mercy thrown down upon her for whatever reason. 

Theon swished his cloak at her and refused her any form of contact. She cowered in fear below him and he gently wrapped some rope around her dreadfully dirty hands. He knew what she did to save them when he had taken Winterfell before and he had too much respect for her and knew how important it was that she get to Winterfell. 

“Bran are you hurt?” Theon was checking over Bran like a mother hen to her chicks which annoyed him to a great extent. Though in all honesty, Bran didn’t really show much emotion concerning his legs anymore. Robb still could not get over the shock at how with a couple of word’s Theon had made them both yield their weapons and had struck the fear of the gods into their very souls. It was the most powerful he had seen him look in months. He had shed the shell and was coming back to his former self. 

“No. What was-” Bran began to ask but Theon interrupted not wanting to hear any questions at the moment as all he wanted to do was go back to his room and sleep everything off hoping they could un-witness what they had just seen. 

“I’ll see they get sorted properly. You two should get back to Winterfell.” He looked at Bran’s leg wound and saw how it was bleeding a deep crimson river yet Bran showed no emotion. Theon taking command was something Robb hadn’t seen much of but he wasn’t complaining. It was a good look for him. So fierce and powerful. Robb was a deep pink but it was hidden by his facial hair and even if they did ask he would claim he was just breathless from the fight. 

“Theon. As my closest brother, I want answers when you get back.” Robb said as he placed Bran back upon his horse. Theon knew that this question was bound to erupt at some point and already in advanced he had planned exactly what he was going to tell him. As Jeyne said he was adapting rather well given the circumstances. 

“And answers you shall have but not now.” Theon replied as he gave him a nod and tightly bound the second wilding who did not have a sizeable hole in his stomach.

Robb left with his younger sibling in tow but he kept looking behind him to see what in the Seven hells he was doing. Theon knew what he was doing and everything was going smoothly so far. 

Sad how it was all about to change. 

-

It was a rare occasion when Theon would get to walk about Winterfell on his own accord. Many people noticed the warm smile he would wear as he didn't something as simple as breathing in the Winterfell smell. It was nostalgic for him to do so. 

Jeyne was also taking in the sights and smells. It was so much different then what she had been used to. In a way, it was still impressive but she would keep silent about how she believed that her version of Winterfell was a lot grander. Then again she wasn't complaining because it had been a prison to her for god knows how many months. 

Food was also a luxury they had at their disposal. Mouth-watering meats and bread that was hot out of the fire. 

His stomach was growling at him and the pain was coming back so was going to go to the kitchen and get a small treat for himself. He could probably bribe one of the maids to let him sneak something sweet tasting. Apparently, it was honey cakes for dessert afterwards. A soft golden honey centre and a moist cake surrounding it. It was increasing his hunger even thinking about how it tasted. 

Though Ramsay’s blade had rested near and beside Theon’s tongue many a time he never went as far as to mute him completely which was something he could be thankful for. Taste was something he wasn't sure he could live without. Unconsciously his tongue would rub over some of the knife marks that occupied the gums of his mouth. All were X shaped of course. 

Not time to be thinking about the past. Now it was time to think about some good home comfort dessert. 

His travels took him into a small room where Osha was beginning to clean the floor. He hadn’t expected to run into here but he supposed he might as well seize the moment and have a good long chat with her. It was if imaginary claws were tearing his stomach apart. He was properly riddled with anxiety. This was one fixed point he would have to correct. Jeyne helped him by rubbing his shoulders and telling him that he could do this.

When he spoke Osha quickly went back and scuttled away from him.

“Hello...Osha.”

Social interactions were something he would have to work on. Strangers would think him mad if he carried on the way that he did. 

“Mi’Lord” She said not looking up from her work. It was evident that she still wanted to murder him and get away from this place and head towards her own goal, yet after the events of the forest she still distrusted him a great amount believing him to be linked with the long night. Theon didn’t feel like correcting her this time. There was a coldness that filled the room and Theon shivered while breathing out, a small cloud of vapour escaping his lips. 

Osha knew what the cold was like and this wasn’t it. The cold was having to wear dead rabbits freshly peeled skin and pray that you survive the night. Cold was setting fire to small trees and hoping that the warmth of the fire be enough to keep you going. The cold was running as fast as you could from others who wanted to steal all of your resources. This was just a chill. 

“How are you adjusting?” She was adjusting well to her duties around the Castle. It seemed that she was burdened with relatively simple tasks for people to keep an eye on her and make sure she didn't get up to anything bad like escaping for example.

She didn't see why they didn't just kill her as they could have got any northern woman to do all these meaningless tasks they had women for teaching their daughters and they had men to teach the boys. She could do both of these things, mainly hunting. 

These girls should be learning how to hunt and make fires not sitting about and looking pretty. The crippled boy had told her he had a sister one who was very much like her had no interest in being a lady so she liked the sound of her and possibly meeting her one day.

“I do my part.” She said while scraping more and more of the straw and making it pristine. 

“Do you like Bran and Rickon?” Theon asked her knowing what he had to say exactly. She stopped her cleaning activities and looked up. It took her a moment before she could think of a response. She adjusted her itchy clothes and replied. 

“The two little lords?” She said cautiously still not exactly knowing how lordships worked. It would take time as she was still learning. She had been here for a couple of weeks now and though she didn't want to admit it she was now growing fond of the Stark boys. They had such a charm about themselves they were so small. 

It must have been Motherly instinct has she had an overwhelming urge to get to know them and keep them safe. Odd considering that they weren't in any danger that she knew off. Hodor was also someone she had gotten to know. The gentle giant himself. While his vocabulary was Limited she was still able to find herself having excellent non-verbal communication with him

Theon nodded in response. 

“They remind me of my own cubs.” Osha had spoken the softest voice that Theon had ever heard. Even softer than when she had tried seducing him. This was new. His past self would have never found out this vital information on his own. He was glad now that was about to change. 

“What happened?” Theon had never actually considered that someone like her had other people to care about. Then again at the time of they're meaning she didn't exactly seem like the type.

“I had to leave them with their father behind the wall. They weren’t fit to climb just yet. I was in Mances’ service as a spearwife but the white walkers were getting closer and I couldn’t risk it. They’re safe for now. My eldest is called Carya. She’ll look after the others okay.”

“Where are they?” Theon knew asking where people beyond the wall were was like asking a Dothraki to name all the Houses of the West. 

“Hardhome, last I heard. I pray to the old gods the white walkers have not reached there by now.” Osha had left her kids and hoped that they were being taken care off well. She was sure her eldest daughter would be taking care of things but with the looming threat coming ever closer she was unsure she would ever see them again. 

Theon could see himself helping in this regard. If he were able to send a raven to Jon quickly then he might be able to tell him about finding those kids. Hardhome. “I’ll write to Jon. He can ensure their safety.”

“You believe in them...That shouldn’t surprise me.” White walkers were something assumed to be folk tales in the western lands. Wildings knew lords and ladies would never take it seriously. They would be drinking their bitter wines and scoffing in their faces about it while they enjoyed the summer heat. 

She realised what he had been implying that he do. He would be sending a message to the night's watch. Those murderous, pillaging bastards. Claiming the other side of the wall as if they owned the fucking place. 

At the mention of the night's watch, Osha gained an angered expression and instantly. If she had a blade on her she surely would have been holding it to his throat. Her darling children in the hands of some crow made her skin crawl for she knew far too many mothers who would be crying for their children had been slain by men in the raven cloaks. Their blades were covered by the blood of the innocent.

“He’s a crow.” Osha spat at the notion. If the kids were exposed to a crow then they were like little lambs to the slaughter. They didn’t take mercy on children and she knew that for a fact. She'd seen it with her own two eyes. 

“He’s a good man. He’ll try at least.” Theon had heard about hard home from Ramsay. Jon had risked his safety to save the wildings from the white walkers. Of course that is what Jon would do being the gallant hero in his own tale. Word had managed to travel quickly and his mole in the night's watch would tell him everything. 

Osha swept up the floor more but stopped when Theon started to play with his hair awkwardly. Clearly trying to make it look presentable. She was expecting him to try flirting with her but when she showed disinterest in what he was doing he desisted. 

“Why are you the way that you are...Mi’lord.” Her eyes reached up to his hair. Theon had so many answers to those questions. Only one answer covered everything. 

“Experience.” 

Now he decided to take his leave. it felt like the weight has been lifted off his chest for having talked to her about everything. In his previous life, he never would have considered even asking if she had a family, friends or even a husband. Obviously, he could understand his actions at the time he still couldn't stand some of the aspects of his former self. it was like a leech that was slowly sucking him dry. he would have apologized to her but that would arouse too much suspicion instead he just looked at her sympathetically but there was annoyed look behind his eyes. Osha could see this but she asked enough questions at this point and both were seemingly tired. 

Overall the events of today had been tiring for everyone. it has been about a week or two since she first arrived there's something about today that was very reminiscent of the first day they met. perhaps it is something to do with that it was their first conversation since then. the Good Doctor had to take on the duty or showing her around and explaining to her how things worked in a Northern Castle. she wasn't comfortable but she was alive so she would accept this deal for now and escaped the first chance she could grab at.

Maester Luwin came upon the scene. His jangling chains alerting them to his presence. 

“What are you two doing?” he asked seeing as they were just finishing up their conversation. Though the recent change in his demeanour Luwin was still cautious that flirtatious Greyjoy was still lurking underneath and only in hiding for the time being. probably as part of some twisted prank on whom he didn't know but he was sure he would find out.

“I’m making sure the prisoner does as she’s told.” She could only watch in wonder as his body completely changed and his attitude became sour. This is not been the person she was talking to only moments ago. he swiped his hand playfully at her face as if to say he was better than her.

Luwin felt contempt at this moment. Luckily he had a response ready and waiting. “She’s our guest. Or are the two mutually exclusive in your experience.” he said.

Both awaited his reaction. They didn't get what we were expecting. Instead, he simply remained quiet and his face it didn't change much except for a couple of eye winks and mouth twitches

Theon rubbed his head as he remembered the context in which he said that last time and he cringed at how much of a terrible person he was towards women. Threatening her in such a disgusting manner. Ramsay made him realise how much of a dreadful person he was to women. He moved away from the both of them to make them focus less upon his face. 

At the time he was in the Bolton dungeons a little bit after he had lost his manhood he wasn't considered a man or a woman. he was considered a thing. a little thing for Ramsay to play with. 

“I apologize.” Theon never quite saw Luwin the same. Sure he regretted a lot of the deaths that happened but his was within the top five. If his men hadn’t been so quick to knock him out then maybe he could have done something to prevent it from happening in the first place but it didn't matter now. That was in an entirely different world one in which he had to leave behind emotionally he was going to survive the second time around. 

“You’re names Lord Luwin?” She asked him. Being a wildling she wasn't exactly sure how houses and hierarchy worked but you did know Lords were the ones who made her life the way it was, the ones who purposely left her ancestors behind The Wall to die a slow, cold death. she despite them for as long as she could remember as well as her mother her grandmother and anyone who came before her 

“I’m a maester dear. You can call me that or Luwin if that suits you better. Was he bothering you?” He took a seconds glance to make sure he wasn’t listening in but he seemed to be long gone from the room.

Osha took a moment to think. “Quite the opposite.” 

It would take time for them to determine whether Theon would keep his word but he gave her not a single reason not to trust him so she was relying on the trust of a complete stranger. A deceptive one he was but he seemed to hold kindness in his eyes. 

The maester gave a small “hmm” of curiosity. The changes that Theon seemed to have taken were interesting to him Not just the hair but everything about him. His mannerisms were more carefully planned out he could tell. Theon would have to refrain from saying certain things and something no one else knew. 

Luwin was one of the few people in the castle who would be up at all hours of the night conducting small experiments around the castle and on more than one occasion he had heard pained noises coming from the Greyjoy’s room. It was the noise of someone who was experiencing terrors in their mind during their sleep. Luwin had proposed to Theon that he take some herbs to try and calm him but Theon wanted nothing to do with it. 

“He’s going to make sure my kids are safe.” A warm motherly smile grew on her face as she went back to sweeping up the floors. A certainty that her kids would be okay was enough for her. She could stay here in this land and build a life for them so when they were all old enough to climb she could meet up with them and they would be able to finally live their life free from any threat of death by ice. 

He knew something had been going on for a while but this was ridiculous. Perhaps he would write to the Citadel and ask for any books on the topic of supernatural creatures. A creeping suspicion told him that deeper below the surface something was going on. 

He would find out what was going on with the Greyjoy if it was the last thing he’d do. 

It would be the last thing he do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I gave Osha a backstory. Hope you like it. Honestly could do with a beta if anyone interested.


	5. The Prisoner's Cell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> War tactics are discussed and mind games are played.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing different just enjoy as always ;D

Theon and Jeyne had simply just been walking about the camp the majority of the time that they had been here. He was more than happy too just enjoy the joy of being alive each and every day. Most of the time he was in the war room helping Robb with his next strategy. 

Robb took notice of Theon doing this and he was quickly becoming popular among the soldiers as he seemed to relate to them better than any of the lords ever could. It was a good thing to have someone who made them believe in the cause and think that the lords weren't unfeeling superiors.

This was helping to boost the moral as he was sort of the gateway between the two classes. The soldiers would be more willing to fight for them if they had the trust of the higher ups. That they wouldn’t deliver false promises. 

He had just finished helping to ration the food and everyone seemed to be getting well fed. 

Speaking of well-fed from Robb's perspective it seemed like Theon wasn't getting any of the rations for himself.

Robb of coursed noticed his eating habits. In that they were non-existent or very inconsistent at the very least. Sometimes he got so worried he would force a piece of meat into his hand and not look away until he had eaten the whole thing. 

He would rarely see Theon eat outside of times when he was with people or at an official dinner. 

It was amazing how he still wasn't starving to death by doing this. Of course Theon always had an excuse for this. These excuses would range from reasonable to completely insane. Robb didn’t like to press Theon on these minor matters as every time he started the conversation he would always find a way for them to turn it around and making it about something that wasn’t the original point. Robb hated it when he did that but he supposed it was his own fault for not being able to outsmart him in the first place.

Even now as they were discussing war strategy he remained oddly quiet.

It was at the point in the timeline just after Ned had does but before Theon had made the bold decision to overtake his home of Winterfell

“We need to get Renly on our side! “Robb said pointing to the green Baratheon piece. There were so many different Baratheon pieces on the board at the moment. They had the red one for Stannis, The green for Renly and the yellow for the bastard king murderer Joffrey. Though they both supposed that it should have really been a lion instead. 

Each had their advantages and disadvantages. 

Renly had men and he also had the advantage of coming into a young Tyrell bride so he had high garden at his command. High garden soldiers who knew what they were doing. One of the men began to snicker despite nothing funny being said. 

Stannis was the one who their father had backed to be king but he had come upon shady business. Witchcraft and Red Priestesses. Robb would have liked to use him only if necessary. 

"There's got to be some way we can get to Renly first." A voice said. A small snicker soon followed. 

They all looked at him to see what was so funny. He continued to contain his laughter. His eyes kept on darting up to Theon who got increasing uncomfortable.

“I was just thinking perhaps we should send Greyjoy. After all he and Renly have similar choices in their bed companions.” He said looking at Theon. Theon didn't get it the first time what he was talking about but Catelyn and Robb did. 

Catelyn gave the lord a quick thump on his foot to remind him of his place. The smirk was wiped of his face quickly and he bowed his head down in shame trying to avoid her stare. He had only meant it as a small joke. 

Theon looked towards Jeyne and she simply shrugged her shoulders too having no clue of what they could have been talking about.

“What is that supposed to mean?” He legitimately had no clue about what he was talking about. 

All three people looked to each other to see who would be the brave first person to begin speaking up about the matter. Lord Umber wasn’t about to speak it while Robb was trying to search for the words. Catelyn let out a sigh of annoyance at the two supposed grown men. They could even talk about such a simple matter with a fully grown adult. 

“After the incident with Jon, people believe that perhaps you enjoy the company of men more. And many feel you had romantic feelings for Ned’s bastard.” Catelyn clearly refused to talk about him by his name. She had venom in her voice as if the words left her lips they’d be poisonous to her. 

Theon tried to think back to the situations about which she could be talking about. He thought hard but nothing came to him. It was just on the tip of his memory but nothing immediately came to mind. 

That was until he remembered what had happened outside of the stable and that winter like night. How he had fallen with the Snow seemingly about to be on top of him. Then there had been the scene after of the breakfast as well. My god all of it really did look like he had feelings for Jon. 

Theon tried to hide his laughter at first but there was no containing. It was the only thing he could do at this ridiculous situation. Jeyne was laughing along with him. Theon had to take a moment to remember how to breathe. 

No one understood why they were laughing so much. 

“We don’t think any less of you but I would prefer it if you were to either confirm or deny these rumours right here right now.” When Catelyn had first heard of these rumours she had been enraged that two of the lowest born in the castle had decided to take up a partnership. Then she realised that it could come as a good thing if she could kill two birds with one stone. If she could prove it to be true she could finally send Jon away for fear of ruining Ned’s reputation. 

She clasped her hands devilishly thinking she had won but then she heard news of Jon going to castle black. While she was happy he was going to be gone it still hung over her head she was willing to stoop to that level.

Theon wiped away a stray tear and answered them once he had stopped his wheezing. 

“I enjoy both male and females equally. I am simply experimenting more with males but if I see a women I like I will take her to bed. I was never involved with Jon but simply a couple times it may have looked like it. I respect Jon but he’s not for me. He’s too much of a good doer. Always so brooding too. Where’s the fun in a man like that? Anyway does this answer satisfy you? I bet it does you Lady Catelyn knowing I’m not fucking your husband’s bastard.”

The mood of the whole scene changed. Robb looked completely shocked by the sudden revelation. He never expected this from Theon. Certainly in his youth he had always had girls on the brain. He really should have noticed it before. 

Catelyn coughed to clear her throat. She didn’t expect that from someone like him. Such coarse language as well. Her fingers were tapping rhythmically against the table, a habit that Theon had picked up on her doing whenever she was stressed. Theon was good at picking up other people's ticks thanks to his own.

Baelish made it a note of something he could potentially use against him in the future. Then again if he was being so openly public with the knowledge then it would all be pointless. 

“Well at least we know now.” Catelyn wasn’t pleased with this development. It wasn't that she had anything against that type of thing. If it was something that made him happy it had made him happy but it would mean that marrying him off would be a lot harder. Lords had certain reservations about marrying their daughters off to men known for their buggery. It made them more prone to cheating if the wife wasn't of a satisfactory standard. Then again Lord Renly seemed to be doing just fine the way he was. 

“Would you be willing to go to Renly?” Umber didn’t pick up on the tone of the conversation and all he heard was Theon could be used to get to Renly. Theon's laughter stopped and morphed into something else. 

Theon eyes went sharply to the man and a fear overtook him worse than that of Lady Catelyn’s. Theon walked up to him and grabbed him by his shirt and dragging him to the side a little to show off his strength. In his mind something had snapped and he couldn’t stop himself. 

“I’m not sleeping with someone I don’t know. I’m not your fucking whore!” Theon yelled that last part of his sentence to Lord Umber. The elderly man shot back in surprise at such aggression. 

Robb was learning all kind of new things about Theon today. First it was his love of both genders and now it was the fact that he had a really overly aggressive side. Theon yelling was something he didn't think he had heard before. Perhaps maybe when he was in dire pain but this was different from that. This was a hatred at the insinuation of being compared to a whore. Maybe the question had irritated him but he laughed it off?

Catelyn had seen men enraged before about things but this was like an animal’s primal fear coming into play. He let the lord go and may his way back towards the war table while he looked at the pieces that were spread out across the board as if the outburst had never happened. Baelish was intrigued as always but remained indifferent. It was a low thing on his list of priorities. 

“Okay sorry...I was just wondering.” Umber didn’t expect him to get so hostile over what was a simple little joke. Umber of course looked away having underestimated the boy’s personality. 

The tension wouldn’t go away until somebody broke it. 

“I will go then. Catelyn said hoping that the tension between the two of them would finally disappear and they could get back to other more pressing matters. She looked to all of them and saw it as the most sensible thing to do at the time. 

“That’s the Tyrell’s sorted. As well as Renly.” Robb moved the flower piece alongside them assuming that all would go okay with Renly Baratheon. After all at least one Baratheon would be better than no Baratheon. 

“Who else can we get?

Catelyn looked over the board with a worried shade casting over her eyes and she wasn't exactly sure who else would be capable of giving them support. It seemed that their options were beginning to get slimmer but perhaps she could ask her sister if things were beginning to look bad. If she could keep her sister out of things it would go a lot easier but their chances would look a lot higher with the knights of the vale on their side. 

“Martell? Targaryen?” Theon began to spit out names he could think off. A long time ago these people had all come together once to defeat the true enemy of the throne. Originally it had been the queen they had been fighting but then they saw the true enemy was the king. The king of the dead. 

“The Starks and the Targaryen’s working together? You must still be mad in the head.” Umber joked thumping him lightly on the head referring to the so called fall he had taken. Theon glared at him again and in a moment he backed off. Fearing a repetition of before. 

Theon scowled at the lord and continued to explain himself to a semi interested Robb. “They hate the Lannister’s and Daenerys has Dragons!” Theon told him with a smugness in his voice. The last time he had seen the dragons there had only been two of them. The weakest had been killed off during the battle beyond the wall. Apparently. 

All of them went quiet. Robb seemed to stop moving while Catelyn was slowly turning to Theon as if to ask if he was joking or not. Disbelief and shock filled the room. 

“She has what?” Lord Umber said completely shocked taken aback by this sudden claim of gigantic proportions 

Lord Baelish knew this was not happen but he hadn't expected Theon to just blurt that knowledge out like that. It was bothering him how he had gotten the information like he did. If the boy was becoming like him and Varys then he would pose a problem. 

Word obviously hadn't reached them yet about the birth of Daenerys dragons. Catelyn had thought it impossible for them to have existed but she had been proven wrong. Theon had to think quickly the how to work himself out of this one. As they were going to hear about it anyway he might as well tell them only mention the fact that they wouldn’t be fully grown yet and they weren't capable of Tearing Down great cities just yet.

That wonder turned to panic. They had all cast the Targaryen girl out of Westeros with a hatred and now she had the perfect way to get back at them all. Perhaps Robert Baratheon had a point in killing the princess while she was with child. 

“Dragons. Three of them. Drogon, Viserion and Rhaegal. They’re still only young things. About the size of cats apparently.” Theon saved himself. Word surely would have passed through soon about this. After all it was the biggest news that any of them had heard for a while. Dragons were no longer extinct and they had three remaining. 

It was a fanatical proposition. Having dragons would help them a lot in their war but then he would have to make peace with the daughter of the man who had burned his grandfather and uncle to death in the Red Keep. That he couldn’t allow. Keeping the family honour was more important than getting an ally who could only potentially help. 

“Still no. She burned my grandfather and uncle.” Robb would lose the North in a millisecond if you would ever even consider an alliance with the Khaleesi of the Dothrak. It would be a grand day whenever men from Essos and then from Westeros were to fight side by side. It made Theon sad to think he would never live to see that day.

Theon understood the judgement but he still wasn't pleased about it. His face showed it. He supposed at least Jeyne could be happy that no rules well being broken.

“Dragons….” Catelyn had never gotten to see a dragon in her time alive. it was almost enough to make her want to join with the Targaryen’s but he don't like if she did that she would be betraying Ned and that is the one thing she refused to do no matter how much benefit it would have had to her and her cause. Robb saw this as well.

A horn sounded in the camp a signal that it was soon going to be the dawn. None of them realised that they had been talking about this for so long. 

“We should leave this for now.” Robb yawned. He may have been a king but king's needed rest to further plan their wars. Robb was more than adorable when he was sleepy. 

All the lords walked out. All except the sneaking Lord Baelish and the Fish turned wolf. 

Lord Baelish was alone with Catelyn. The lady was about to leave but it was obvious he wanted to speak. She would have fought him but it was early and she would like to get some rest. If she dealt with him now it would save her having any more problems later on. 

“What do you want me to do with him Lady Catelyn?”

“Who?” She asked not knowing who he was talking about. He grabbed the Greyjoy maker and placed it in her hands. A sigh came from her mouth. The elephant in the room she had wanted to avoid all of this time. 

“The Greyjoy boy. You know it's in his blood. He will want to side with Balon therefore he will betray your son.” Baelish said with that tone in his voice. The one that could convince milk to turn to butter. He may have been using this as manipulation but he spoke the truth and in his warped mind it made sense that a man such as Balon would use this opportunity to do something while he had the chance 

Catelyn had foreseen it happening but she was yet to confront Robb with the information. He was a tricky puzzle to solve. Baelish was good at putting pieces together and it seemed that he was on their side at the moment so it made sense for Baelish to be the one to arrange things for him. 

“You do whatever you think is best Petyr.” She said. In terms of her thoughts on Theon she had none. He was simply a boy but Balon was going to be a hard bargain to sell. She waved him away having seen enough of him for one day. 

“I will only do what you ask.”

Baelish would do anything for Catelyn but only if it would suit him too. When it came to power or love it was always his destiny to choose power every single time. It brought him unhappiness but that was the price that one must pay to preside over all. 

“And yet I ask of you constantly to leave me alone yet you persist like I’m a dog in heat.” She had the final word in the conversation as before he could reply with something even wittier. 

Baelish smirked.

“I will see that it is all dealt with my lady.” Baelish wrote down a quick couple of words in a small book of his and closed it. He had plans to make and people to address. His mind was already working in wondrous ways of how he could work the situation to his advantage.

The tent was empty.   
\-----------

Theon realized something he had forgotten long ago. He was so used to it he had forgotten how much he despised it. He fucking hated the mud. It had ruined his wolf fur and his boots were nearly unwearable then again he had no choice in the matter. He had seen worse but he could have gone without it. 

It stank as well. He was used to getting regular baths so he hated when he had smell things that reminded him of his former state. 

It was funny to him how such a trivial thing concerned him seeing as he had been put through so much already. He tried to wipe away some of the dried specks but it seemed to only spread it even worse. 

It was a war zone after all. It couldn’t be helped he supposed.

The smell of death was about the area, a smell he was all too familiar with. His boots squelched on the ground as he kept on digging his heels into the wet mud as the others talked about their strategy for defeating the Lannister’s. He could tell how anxious he was by the small hole he had dug himself underneath the table. Some of the others had of course noticed this by the constant sound coming from beneath them but they had more important matters to be concentrating on like how in the hell they were going to beat this war with the Lannister’s. Though Theon already knew the answer to that question.

They weren’t. Things were just going to keep on happening and they would not win this war. Yes they would win future wars but for this king in the north his crown was not to be picked up.

Time had passed, Ned Stark’s head rested on a pike, Robb had been granted the title of king in the north and they had taken a spoil from their war. The much needed bargaining chip the north needed. 

Jamie Lannister was currently captured within their camp and tied up in the dirt. Theon somewhat felt pity for him but then again he wasn't being tortured in any way and he was still rather smug about everything so Theon could easily pretend to despise his guts. But he also took into account how his sister played a major role in everything and the incest must have messed with his head. Also he had to witness the horror of his own hand being mercilessly chopped off. If they did have one thing in common it was that the both of them had been mutilated by men under the name Bolton.

Currently they were in the full swing of the war and they had just captured one of those pesky Lannister spies. Robb had played the clever trick of tell him they had 20,000 men when in reality they had a couple thousand less. 

They saw how quiet he remained during the council meetings but simply. Mistook it for being distracted by certain thoughts. After all they knew what his taste was for bed partners. Or they thought that they knew. 

Soon enough all discussions were over and it was him and Robb left alone in the tent. Robb was looking outside as the people were working to make this war a reality. 

“A word, Your Grace?” Theon said walking up besides Robb. Ever observing his face trying to remember it the best he could. Robb had not been blind to this. Of course he noticed these increased observations but he assumed it was due to him being more attentive since his head injury. 

Robb snickered a little. The way he said his grace despite having known him practically all of his life was quite humorous to him. “You don’t have to call me “Your Grace” when no one’s around.”

It was still in his mind that when anyone said he did anything wrong his mind would rush to panic. Thankfully he could sort himself out but since this was Robb he silenced himself and put on his smile like it was his everyday clothing. “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again. The Lannister’s are going to reject your terms, you know?”

Of course they are.

We can fight them in the fields as long as you like, but we won’t beat them until you take King’s Landing. And we can’t take King’s Landing without ships. My father has ships and men who know how to sail them.

“Men who fought my father.” Robb reminded him. 

Theon was repeating history as he could recall the exact conversation which made his life that little bit easier. Robb would likely give the same response he had before and Theon could manipulate this. “Men who fought King Robert to free themselves from the yoke of the South, just like you’re doing now. I’m his only living son.” Theon had to pause before the next part as he knew what he had to say even though it was a pack of lies. “He’ll listen to me.” The words were like a poison and he was forced to swallow them getting a little bit sicker with each syllable. The Iron born would only. Fight for Robb is they had any motivation to do so.

“Your father raised me to be an honourable man. We can avenge him together.” With Ned’s death he could tell that Robb was still grieving and though he would never show it to his fellow men he could see it deep within him. Ned’s death was weighing heavily on him. 

Theon felt comfortable enough to speak of Ned like a father figure to him though it wasn't entirely true. A half-truth if you will. Jeyne could see how much it was hurting him to talk about this so she gave him a small back rub of reassurance. His head did not move but his eyes were focused on her and he was thankful for it. 

Robb was clearly very trying to think about what to say in this current situation. Sending Theon back could be a risky thing to do as he was sending an ally into enemy territory but then again ships could prove useful if it came to that and a ship assault on King's Landing at the same time as a land attack could assure their victory. 

He let out a breath which evaporated slightly in the wind. “I will talk it over with my council.”

Theon nodded victoriously knowing that he was going to go no matter what he said. “That’s all I need. Thank you.”

A small gap of silence fell between the two. Both were clearly thinking about different things. Theon was thinking about Ned while Robb was thinking about the brother beside him. 

He was facing out but his eyes were glancing to the side. 

He could see Theon's neck and how the bruises mostly healed over. It wasn't viable to people who didn't know how that it was there. Robb still felt a small part of betrayal in his heart but he knew he'd have to move on from a small event in the past. Now what he had to do was focus on what was important. 

He had asked about to see if anyone had known the identity of the rogues who had attacked him but everyone he asked only gave him a dead end. Robb eventually gave up and had to go with the assumption that they had been a wilding gang of some kind. He wanted to ask more questions of Theon but 

The original question Robb was going to ask was how he thought the war was going but maybe he should put Theon as a priority in this moment. 

“How are you doing Theon?” Robb asked turning his attention towards the Greyjoy yet again. This caught Theon off guard and his defences were put up immediately. 

“Good...why do you ask?” Theon had no recollection of Robb saying this in the past so he was choosing what he said very carefully.

“You seem...Better.” Robb said with a small smile. Theon could see past him as clear as the salt in the sea. Robb avoided contact with Theon eyes so instead focused on his friends face. His face was showing very good signs of healing. His bone cheeks no longer protruded from the side of his face, his eyes a little less sunken and his hair retaining a healthy shade. It had gained most of its former colour back but there were a gleaming snow like colour if it was by the right type of light.   
“I’m feeling better. I’m just worried a little bit. If I do go...Yara, Balon.” Deep in his gut he knew he was going to be betraying his blood family. Balon he didn't mind so much but rather Yara.

“I have faith in you.” Robb smiled and he lost it. Robb’s smile was so darn infectious that Theon could not stop himself beaming with happiness. His smile faded into that of a melancholy look as he began to panic at the thought of having to see Balon and hear him degrade him over and over yet again. Perhaps this time around he could avoid any conflict with his older sister. He could avoid accidentally...touching her while riding horseback. Theon was so lost in his disgusting thought he made an audible sound of disgust by thinking about it. Thankfully Robb had grown accustomed to all of these small unusual mannerisms so he passed no remarks though he still believed deep in his heart Theon had an invisible head wound making him act this way. 

“At least you do.” Theon muttered under his breath. 

“You’re grace?” A voice interrupted them both. They looked up to see someone small scrawny squire. His face was youthful. Too youthful for the war zone. If Theon had to make a guess he would say that he was but a boy of fourteen. Possibly younger. 

Robb knew that he had to leave if he was being summoned by someone. As much as he didn’t want to he was a king and he needed to do things that would ensure his victory. 

Theon waved him goodbye as Robb went with the young lad. 

“I need to go on a walk. You okay with that?” Theon felt bad that all he seemed to be doing was dragging the poor lady all around this camp. She didn’t get tired like he did.

“Suppose you want to stretch your legs? You’ve been sat in that small room for a while.”

Theon sighed and looked down to his partially deformed legs. He could never stand for too long in a small space. If he did then they’d go stiff and the pain was something he wished he could avoid. 

“Now that I’m alone I suppose there is one thing I should get doing before I miss the chance.” 

This would be his only window. He was too be leaving soon and the person he needed to talk to was going to be leaving as soon as he got back so he was to hurry. 

Jeyne watched him as he slowly got a small box from the pile of small boxes in the area. She watched curiously as he started to place the boxes under his cloak as if he were trying to conceal them. 

Next he went around to the food tent and he was warmly greeted by all there. The chef was a jolly man. They were on a first name basis. It had taken the lowborn man by surprise that someone superior was genuinely interested in knowing his name. Theon was trying to be nice to everyone who was involved. 

“What can I do you for Lord Theon?”

“I’ll take a bit of meat and bread. This war works up an appetite.” Theon joked with the man. 

“Don’t we all know it. I’ve got a plate here. Enjoy.” He was handed some rations which would do the trick for him. His hand grabbed a small loaf of bread and a piece of readily seasoned meat of some kind. The texture of it made Jeyne think it could possibly be beef or something like that. Theon waved at the man and he waved goodbye back. 

He was finding it surprisingly easy to make friends with everyone here. All you had to do was find their vulnerabilities and find common ground with them. It was very Ramsay like of him but he might as well take what was once used to hurt him and make it something positive. 

Theon walked around the camp for a bit. He was looking for something. Robb and the others were deciding his fate for him. Perhaps he would go to the armoury and get a new sword. 

He was a walking with the Lady Jeyne talking about things they had seen during the day. They were just enjoying the moonlight stroll. The stars were illuminating the room enough for them to get a proper look at everything that had been 

They happened to past Jaime Lannister's cage and Theon’s face lit up as to say he had found exactly what he was looking for. 

Jeyne just had to ask.

“Who is that in the cage?” She hadn’t been present during the battle of the Whispering Woods so she hadn’t seen the end to the battle. How they had captured Jamie Lannister after he had murdered ten of their own. 

“Jamie Lannister. We captured him during the battle.”

The battle is something that Theon wanted to avoid all together when talking to Jeyne about it. The oddest thing had happened during the battle. He didn’t freeze up at all. He had remained calm at all times and had cut down men that must have been twice his size. He was more disadvantaged this time around due to his Ramsay related injuries. Not having a proper grip on a sword had nearly caused him to lose his head more than once. Then again thanks to the gods death was something he didn’t have to fear during the great battle.

At one point he was sure that a knife had entered his side but he had simply ignored the pain and carried on assuming it would heal on its own.

“That's what Jaime Lannister looks like?” Jeyne went up closer to inspect his face. Theon went up closer too. He moves were nearly silent so the Lannister wouldn’t be able to hear him approach. He wanted to be the one to show up to him in order to feel some sort of control about the situation. 

“Why is he different in this universe?” He had only known Jamie to always look like this. Maybe the only difference was the fact that he had gotten a haircut. The first time he laid eyes on the Lannister he had to admit he was very good looking. Theon assumed this was only a crush he had because he looked like a girl. The moment that the Lannister’s were suspected of attempted murder of Bran Starks he had lost every ounce of interest in the man. 

Jeyne was still looking into his eyes. 

It wasn't just his looks that attracted her. It was his vulnerability. If she were to marry a man after Ramsay she wanted it to be a lord who was a complete wimp. Someone who was sensitive. She learned that the only way for her to survive was for her to be in control of her own mind,

“No. He's perfect. If not more handsome than before.

“Jeyne he's the enemy!” Theon told her. She looked guilty for a moment but then shrugged similarly like the way that Yara had when under foreign invasion from Ellaria. 

“What? I'm a lady I know a good looking man when I see one.”

Theon must have said it out louder than he had anticipated as suddenly Jamie’s whole body language changed. He had planned to visit Jamie tonight anyway he just wanted to do it at a time that suited him better but he supposed now he had a moment he might as well have. 

“Is that you Greyjoy? I recognise your voice from Winterfell.” Jamie couldn’t exactly look around to see them but both people could see an attempt was made by the young lion to turn his head. 

Theon muttered a quick fuck before coming around to the front of the cage so they could speak face to face. There was a guard in front of the cage so his view of the Lannister was obscured. 

“Aye it’s me.” Theon spoke first.

Jaime Lannister. Oh how he had fallen from grace. The once knight in shining armour was now covered in dirt and filth. His hair was thinning and his legs were crooked from the lack of movement. 

There was a small fat guard looking over the prisoner. He was a man from the north who seemed to be half asleep had it not being for them talking above a whisper. 

“You cannot speak to the prisoner.”

“I’ll give you 10 pieces of silver to fuck off for a bit.” Theon held out the bag of money. He was stealing money from Bolton men. Theon knew most of them didn’t have families. That they were just serving their lord but he knew the soldiers who were pure scum. The ones who enjoyed their work. They enjoyed killing and pillaging helpless families in the north for resources. It sickened him to no end. 

The guard looked at the coins and examined them carefully to see if they were the real deal. He took the bag a nodded graciously

“Done. Don’t kill him. Thank you my Lord.” He said counting each coin to see if he had been lying or not.

“Wasn’t planning to.” Theon told the short fat little man as he scurried off to undoubtedly use the money on whores or food or whatever it was that took his fancy. Money seemed like such a material thing now. 

It was just him, Jamie Lannister and a ghost from another world. It could have been the set up to a brilliant joke. 

“What are you doing here Greyjoy? Get bored of feeling like a wolf among sheep? “This was Jamie's first attempt to try and get underneath his skin film suspected as much so he didn't let it get to him. After all when he was with Ramsay he had heard every black sheep joke under the blazing Sun

“I wanted to talk to you. No guards, no Robb, no Cersei. Just two men who need to have a discussion.” He was sufficiently quick to cut away from the bullshit. 

Jamie’s interest was piqued. Not just his fake interest in an attempt to escape. Theon had made this personal with only a handful of words. Approximately all of the guards had made some punt about Cersei while he had been locked up here. 

“Fine then. Speak.” Jamie said intrigued by what would happen. He doubted he’d have anything interesting but he didn’t account on being proven entirely wrong. 

“What are the realistic chances of us winning? From an outsider’s point of view.” Theon decided to start off with. Jaime was a man of military and what better way to start off a conversation then by asking him of his opinion. 

He was doing exactly what Ramsay did sometimes.

Military tactics was the last thing that he thought he would be discussing with the enemy. He made a face while he was thinking, counting the numbers and doing the math in his head quickly. 

The trick worked like a charm but Theon had no doubt that he was about to start lying through his teeth in this exact moment

“Given my father’s army I would say equal chances. Though my father is smarter and Robb is...Well he’s a man of emotion. Not a good thing for a king to have. More like a Queen or a princess.” Jamie remarked with a smile. It was true he had seen it before. With the mad King specifically. He had seen how his insanity and jealousy made him even consider burning his Kingdom down to the ground. Jamie had never forgotten that day and he doubt he ever would. Even though it was years ago he could still feel the blood of the King on his hands. It was so humid in the room that the blood instantly began to dry. 

“I know. That’s going to be his downfall.” As the saying went Dead Men tell no tales so he's so no point in lying to Jamie. The way he worded it he technically wasn't giving anything away but he was being honest as well. It took a moment for him to digest what Theon had said.

Jamie had shock written all over her face. If he heard any of his own men talking this way then certainly he would have had them thrown in the dungeon for treason and he also would have had the key melted down into nothing. 

What Jamie had failed to notice was that he had come prepared with a small box hidden underneath his cloak. He would have seen it had he not been so focused on the conversation that they were having and looking in the details of his eyes. When he pulled out the box Jamie's initial reaction was to try and pull away in case it was something worse like a poisoning or a knife. He didn’t want to believe that this was how it ended. 

“I brought you some water and food.” he said trying to make him seem as genuine. He wasn't sure of his relationship with Jaime Lannister. On one hand he had murdered many Stark soldiers and he was aligned with Cersei however rumours had spread that He had left her after she had decided to betray the North by not sending soldiers up when they needed those most. He had seen it is horrible she understood why she did it. It was the perfect strategy too destroying her enemies.

This was the reason he didn't hate Jamie. He wasn't his sister. Jamie had some remorse about the things that he did and didn't agree when she was doing something evil. Theon often wondered would Jamie face a similar situation as he did where the gods would decide his fate and let him have a second chance. He hoped they would. Maybe then he could have been with his darling Brienne. The two loved each other and they hated that they loved each other. A tragic love story but in all honesty what love story in Westeros wasn’t tragic?

“Water?” Jamie had to ask again for confirmation of this. At the mention of anything liquid Jamie perked up. His mouth was as dry as the Dornish desert and he couldn't remember the last time the guards had remember to water him properly. It was even harder to remember what the sensation of it was like and his tongue. He didn't even care if it was dirty or filled with pollutants all he cared was being hydrated and staying alive.

Theon placed the bread and meat in front of Jamie and watched him as he cautiously poked at it. Jamie would assume it to be a trick. The strangler or some worse concoction. Theon saw both of his fleshy pink hands grab the fresh bread and he took a small bite at first but then began to devour it when his mouth was sure it tasted like normal. He could taste no poison dancing on his tongue so he assumed it was safe to eat, the meat as well. This was a miracle.

He paused his eating as out of the corner of his eye he noticed that he was staring at the bread. Through Theon’s perspective he was looking in actuality at his hand. Theon had seen his golden hand at the dragon pit and Ramsay had shown Jamie’s decaying hand many times to him while Locke had stolen it. Theon didn’t like to think how in the past he had been forced to lick it as part of a twisted game. The taste still lingered if he thought about it hard enough. 

“There’s no trick to this. You need to eat. Quickly.” He would have told the guards to keep the prisoner better but then they might accuse him of treason and aiding the enemy something he couldn't afford of this critical point in time. Also there was the fact that he had only been able to bribe the guard for such a short amount of time. They seemed to assume it was for a darker purpose but they’d see when they got back that he hadn’t done anything to him. 

Jamie couldn’t trust the Greyjoy but his hunger pains were too much to handle so he indulged himself to the point he may have been sick for eating so fast. 

“Why do you stay with her? Cersei I mean?” This was the one thing that Theon couldn't understand no matter what way he decided to look at it. She was an awful woman who did awful things and yet that was who he chose as a bed mate. Then again his bed mate wasn't much better either but he suppose he didn't have a choice in the matter. 

“She’s family.” Jamie replied mouth half full with half the food solid with half of it already mushed. Speaking as at the thought of incest never even occurred to him. Theon could see deeper meaning behind it but he decided against it. 

“But you have a choice. I never did. I wanted to leave but I couldn’t.” no he was talking about his time with the Starks. if he tried to run he would die, if he even expressed the slightest notion of returning home he would die even when Catelyn heard him crying for his mother when he had first arrived he refused she couldn't do it. She didn't want to seem as though she was being kind to the enemy. Besides at this point also she was already dealing with another problem of her one. One that kept stabbing her in the heart. She already had to deal with the bastard that her husband had brought home from the war she did not want to deal with another. 

“Living with the Starks will do that.” Jamie decided to joke only deciding to swallow the food and finally speak normally now that he had at least one bite off mutton in his belly. He tried to hold his tongue seen as he had been generous enough to bring in food when no one else in the camp would even consider it in fact he was probably getting in trouble for doing so. Why risk his already fragile safety for someone they considered to be a hostage? Perhaps it was some sense of belonging, that at one point she had been in the same shoes as Jamie had. 

“Why would I want to leave Cersei anyway? Between you and me I think we both know that the rumours are true.” seen as now Theon had been so kind to him he decided that he should at least throw him a bone. He had denied it at first and had been continuing to do so. he wasn't sure why but he felt like he could trust him obviously not to let him free put enough to have a civil conversation without being in any real danger

 

Seeing as how Theon was being honest and conversing as though they were equals was something Jamie greatly appreciated given as the last time he had been treated as though he were lower than a common street dog. Though he looked roughly the same as one now. . 

“She’s a cruel woman. I know she’s not heartless. She’s a mother but she doesn’t care for anyone except herself and her children. She will say she loves you but it's a lie. She’ll break you down piece by piece until there’s nothing left. You’ll be her obedient servant. She needs something to fill her void.” Theon was not holding back. After time with Ramsey he realised something. He could tell a manipulator when he saw one or Hell even when it was described to him and that was Cersei was a top class manipulator. In some respect she was better than Ramsay but only because she had a better position more power and would a woman. In a world where men underestimate women Cersei new how to play things to advantage. Queen Margaery Tyrell had been the same except she had made one fatal mistake trying to get her hands on her son.

“Strong words.” Jamie didn’t want to admit it but he was right in some respects. This got him thinking. He had to admit though this had been their first proper meeting he seemed to have her down to a point. He was absolutely sure he was just talking shit to get at him but he did have to consider that he made a genuine point. It would be a small matter to him when he finally got back to King's Landing and everything could go back to normal.

He could see his hands. Both of them were still there. Jamie craved for there to be a sword in them once again. 

“Consider it.” Theon wasn’t going to reveal anything as per the rules of the Gods but he just wanted to let him know. Out of all the things I could have talked about, namely his hand, this of course had to be the one. 

Jamie finished off the food, letting not a single scrap to go to waste, not even the smallest of crumbs that had fallen off the bread. When the Lannister’s were to win the war with the north, if this war was to be over and if Theon was alive by the end of it he would reward him with his life perhaps even a place in court would be worthy. 

He found it pathetic how his only ally here was a bloody Greyjoy who was known for trusting nobody. 

“Don’t trust the Bolton’s. They want Lannister blood.” A warning. 

It was knowledge of course that was known throughout the land however Jamie knew that this applied to every single Northern House. It should be more geared towards the Starks. 

A warning form the enemy. Or was the Greyjoy even an enemy to begin with.

“Aren’t the Bolton’s on your side?” This was what Jamie wanted to hear that wasn't expecting to. War strategies and who hated who. this is something he could use to his advantage if you knew who hated Who then she could plant the seed of doubt who can say the odd phrase which made a person think that someone wasn't to be trusted and once there was distrust between people than it was all over for the Starks. Trust seems to be very fragile at the minute and was so close to breaking.

“The only person in this entire camp I have on my side is the king. And I’m the only one who’s willing to treat you kindly.” Theon managed to sound threatening in this moment, another tool of the trade picked up from his master. Jamie did realise that Theon was the first one to treat him not above or below but rather as another decent human being. It was hard for him to remember the last time that it had ever happened. Even in his war camps he was still treated as a Lord. 

From his pocket he pulled out a blade and Jamie in a split second knew this was going to be his end. He was going to be murdered in the small cage.

“Use this knife to protect sense and if the time comes give it to her. She left the one I gave her at Winterfell. I trust you not to kill any northern men with it. After all if any blood is spilled then we have no problem handing you to the gods. Whichever ones you believe in.”

Jamie had one of two theories. The first one being that Theon was a complete idiot. Handing an enemy a knife could be considered treasonous above everything else. Perhaps there is some unknown deal with his father that was going on between him and the Iron born. That Greyjoy was to release and treat him well. After all the Greyjoy’s were neutral at the moment in this war so far and perhaps Tywin was seizing an opportunity. After all when he won the war Balon would be rewarded with the release of his only son. A good tactical move on his father’s part. 

“I bet your drowned god is smiling down on you right now.” He said smugly. Jamie believed in the seven to a certain amount. After King Avery’s he constantly wondered why they would allow him to almost do what he did. Murdering an entire city just because he didn’t want to give it up. They worked in mysterious ways.

“All the gods are.” He said smirking knowing that the gods really did exist. 

“You believe in all gods?” Jamie was taught growing up not really concerning himself with religion except the ones that mattered. All the violent gods. The ones who would see him victorious in the coming war. 

“Aye.” He nodded. Theon took the food box and hid it back in his cloak. He could sneak it back and place it back to where ever he needed it to be. 

Jaime was going to use the knife to unbind himself but surprisingly enough he made a silent vow to keep his promise to Theon. After all he had been considerably kinder to him. It was a gesture. Besides if he broke his promise he could compromise something that his father had planned. 

He made a hole within his clothes and managed to conceal the knife in his trouser leg. It would only come out when he needed it. The guards wouldn’t be able to find it that way. Theon said he would need to protect Sansa so ergo it meant that somehow someway he was going to be released. He could wash his filthy hair and get some decent armour on for once instead of mangy rags. 

“You could be wearing worse.” Theon could see his was pulling at his clothes. They were itchy. When wearing the same clothes for too long they would rub harshly against the skin and make is blister and red with spots. Jaime really was the likeness of Reek. Only he had been mentally tortured with the lack of food and water. His fingers weren’t stubs but he suppose that was to do with the lack of physical torture. 

“Worse than this? I look like a servant.”

“There’s a lot worse things to be.” Jaime should have been grateful that he could go back to a life of somewhat normal standards when this whole thing was over. Well as normal as a one handed knight who slept with the queen who was also his sister could be considered normal. 

Theon got up to leave. Jaime suddenly tense up and hid the knife underneath his clothing. 

“What in the seven hells are you doing here?” Robb was the one who came up to the door of the small wooden cell. He looked like he would murder the both of them. Grey wind was snarling by his side. The terror was mainly aimed towards Jaime but Theon could see it was a warning to him as well. Animals knew what he was. 

Theon was quick to turn his face to a scowl and look in disgust of Jaime Lannister. He spat on Jaime’s face and looked back to Robb. “I was just testing the prisoner. There's nothing he has no information on us.” Theon was saving Jamie’s skin. Jamie was completely shocked at this development. It was as if he had changed within the second. 

“You went in to Jaime Lannister without telling me? What if something had happened?” Robb didn’t even want to acknowledge that the prisoner was even there with him. He had heard from the pudgy guard from earlier that Theon was alone with the prisoner and for some reason it didn’t sit well in his guts at all. Robb had known Theon’s change had made him more pacifistic but still if the Theon he knew from his youth was still there he would taunt Jaime and hurt him. 

“He has his hands tied behind his back. What could he do?” Both glanced down to the filthy man. Robb noticed the wet patch of water. He tried to think of what could have caused it. Of course his main thought was that the prisoner had done his business but a small portion of his mind wandered down a smaller path. A path he almost didn’t want to consider. Had Theon been giving the prisoner extra food and water? To his knowledge the only thing he was allowed him to eat was meat and fruits. No bread. 

Jamie was completely helpless against them both. Even with his skills he was outmatched. 

Theon had given him the knife and prayed that he would keep his word. If he put his knife in someone then that death would be on Theon’s conscious. 

Robb mumbled quietly before dragging Theon out of the thing and shaving him onto the ground. Theon tried to crawl away from him. Robb looked into his eyes from above him. There was a certain fear in them. Robb felt a pang of guilt that he had suddenly taken an abusive stance with his friend. 

“Leave now Greyjoy. We need to discuss your father.” Robb hated to see the reaction in his eyes. 

“My father?” Theon had to try and act surprised about what this was even though he knew full well what was about to happen

We need you to go. We need the boats. If we can give more both then we can take then we can take King's Landing from all different areas but your family is the only one I know that had enough. I’ve talked with mother and she too agrees it would be the best course of action. 

“She doesn't want me to go through does she?”” Theon added on knowing how her initial reaction had been to him going. 

She said never trust a Greyjoy to Robb. 

Theon was going to prove her wrong. He would prove everyone in the north wrong. 

“You won't regret this Robb. But I might.” Might wasn’t even the word he would have used. He was going to regret this a lot. Then again it would be minimal compared to the regret he felt in his first life. 

“Do you want me just had someone else. It’s what mother recommended but I think you might make a stronger case.” Robb knew how thick Iron born blood could be. They would be able to use their father son connection. Robb looked into Theon’s eyes as they were cast down at the ground.

Robb placed a gloved hand on his chin and brought it up to look at his own eyes.

Theon and Robb’s face were but moments apart. He could have done it with ease. He could have moved forward and made the first move. He could just imagine what Robb was like as a kisser. Thinking about Robb kissing him like a wolf and being so passionate but there was only one disappointing thing about his fantasy. 

It wasn’t his reality. 

In reality Robb would probably strike him for doing something so public which could embarrass him in front of the men. He didn’t even know if Robb was the same as he was. He should be struck. For being stupid.

He paused when he suddenly thought about what he had just been thinking. He had just thought about Robb in a romantic sense. Yes, he had been his metaphorical brother but romance it was absurd, it wasn’t right it was...Was he only going after Robb because he had accepted his identity of being a lover of all? 

Or was there a little more to it? Could he really have been in love with Robb this whole time and he just didn’t realise it? Maybe love was a stretch but there was something. 

Loving Robb was something he could deal with when he was done with the over the major problem. As Lady Catelyn would put it he had to think of Family, Duty and Honour. 

He pulled away suddenly and cleared his head. 

“I’ll get father on my side. Trust me.” Theon didn’t want to have to go so soon but it was about time he should face this. Facing his family again. Seeing his father alive and well along with a much younger Yara. He hated leaving Robb so soon but he couldn’t wait to patch things up with his sister. He breathed and waited for Robb to speak. 

Robb let out a breath and the both of them looked towards the great open woods. Beyond that, there was a big open world that Theon was going to travel alone in. It was terrifying to go alone. From experience, bad things happened there. Whether it be being hunted by dogs or men something bad always happened there. But if he didn't go he'd never know. A necessary evil. 

It brought him back to one time he nearly escape from the claws of Ramsay. Nearly. But he was brought back and broken again. If it hadn't been for those bloody dogs. 

Moving along from his putrid thoughts of the Bolton he turned them to his blood family. Theon was going home. For the final time.


	6. The Iron Islands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the title says we are going back to Theon's home of the Iron Islands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update but good news I found a good spell checking thing so that means a fuck-ton less typos. Enjoy!

Theon for this part of his journey was spent in the cabin he had purchased alone in solitude with only Jeyne for companionship. They played a game that was as old as time itself. It was called CyvasseIt. It was very sophisticated. There were ten pieces between each player each in the form of a small animal or weapon, build it, move it across the board in a strategic manner until one of them had successfully taken all of the other pieces. 

Theon moved his and a victorious smirk fell on his face as with one swift movement he had won the game. She looked at the board and despaired when she had realised she had yet lost another game. She gathered all of her pieces back up and then set it back up on the board

It was a miracle that all the pieces were able to stand up correctly. The rocking of the boat was certainly not helping anything stay in its proper place. Thankfully it seemed that the storms had subsided and now it was just the odd jolt that they would feel now and again. Theon would notice this but Jeyne wouldn’t. Then again he supposed that he still had his mortal body while she was just an apparition.

Their game was being played and Jeyne had never done anything like this before. Apparently playing such games wasn’t a lady like quality to have. Of course they were allowed to play games but Jeyne’s mother in particular was insistent that her daughter learn how to sing and smile instead.

“You are really good at this game Theon.” Jeyne said in amazement as his set up a side next looking at the small dragon while Jeyne was focused on the White horse. Theon had decided that he wanted the black pieces this time around and she could be the bright pieces.

“I practised. It keeps me occupied.” Theon could have said more but he had a gut feeling that perhaps she already knew why he played. His use of the word occupied should have probably given it away. 

“What did you do on the ship beforehand?” Jeyne asked as she began to look at how she could have made her first move. She guessed that it must have been lonely for him having to travel alone in such a spacious room.

Theon thought back to his erotic first time, how could he forget? It had been with the captain's daughter if he was remembering that correctly, she was a brunette and wore a pretty little dress. Not that she had worn it for long around him. They had shared a passionate love making session. Although he regretted now in the past he genuinely thought that she had loved him. He could see now how foolish he had been but he was now able to see the error of his process. He had promised her a part in lady Yara’s court when he became the Lord of the iron Islands

“Theon…” Jeyne asked suspiciously when she didn't get a response immediately. When his eyes went to the side she smirked seeing it was something he was embarrassed about. His cheeks burned when she asked him.

He placed a hand all his neck and rubbed it softly. “I slept with the shipmasters daughter.” He blushed at the memory and tried to move on as quickly as possible. It was unusual for him, no, more uncomfortable to talk about sex with Jeyne knowing what Ramsay have put them both through.

She gave a small giddy laugh. It was amazing how she could still keep her humour despite having gone through hell. Jeyne playfully pushed him over.

“Of course you did.” Jeyne said, the snark very high in her voice. He saw him with a hurt glaze in his eyes. She quickly uttered a quick sorry before she got back to putting the pieces back in their place. 

He gave a playful groan and began planning his next move while Jeyne took her first move. Jeyne took hers all in one go while Theon took his time one by one setting them all into the perfect position. 

After some more banter between the two they heard the sound of a horn being blown from above them on the ships deck. They looked up to the source of the noise. Then the creaking began and the sound of men beginning to labour by heaving the heavy cargo from the boat to the docks. They looked each other in the eyes.

“This is our stop I suppose.” Theon wished he could have just stayed in this room forever playing games with Jeyne and preventing the inevitable. It was a lot easier to not accept the reality of what was about to happen. 

Theon remained stationary. By his tight clamp on his knee Jeyne could see anxiety beginning to build in him as it had during the breakfast all that time ago back in Winterfell. 

“You'll do fine. You know what you have to do this time around." She didn't know this was comforting or not but it was the only way she knew how. Just tell him everything is going to be fine and prove it right

“Do I?” Theon had tried to block out a lot of memories but his time back home in Pyke was when he hated with a passion. It was the beginning of the end for him. It was where he had burned the letter to Robb and where he has officially declared himself Greyjoy. His first baptism had made it official. 

Theon had no idea how he was going to react to seeing his father after everything that had happened. He wanted to love him. He wanted so badly to be able to honestly say he wanted to hug his father one last time before he would never see him again. To be able to say he was proud to be his son. All of this was lies. Balon was a terrible father and an even worse King. 

He often like to imagine how much better it might have turned out had Balon swallowed his pride and bent the knee before the king in the North. All the bad blood between the families would have been gone and perhaps they may have even been able to avoid the Red Wedding. After all if they had the ships then they wouldn’t have needed the Bridge between the Twins. Naturally there was still the possibility that Robb needed the twins anyway but there was no doubt in his mind. Balon had ultimately contributed to Robb’s death. Inadvertently he still played a part and would have to answer for it.

He could see that she was trying hard to be a supportive friend and he had just gone and complained about it. It wasn't his intention to disappoint her or make her feel bad “Thanks.” A small gesture but effective nonetheless. She smiled to show that she was glad the air was clear between them. 

All they had was each other and they couldn't afford to get mad at one another.

As they were leaving the boat he noticed the ship captains daughter eyeing him up as he left, she had the same seductive look in her eyes. He wanted to avoid it , oh god, he did and though she was low born she was still a beauty now as much as she was the first time she met him. She still had much wondering her eyes though still the desire to become a salt wife. It was apparent that the ship master, her own father with someone she didn't like to be associated with. And would rather be a whore on land then spend another moment on the water.

“Excuse me are you the ship captain's daughter.” He recognised her face. 

Her eyes looked him up and down and she bit her lip when she was done looking. She clearly liked what she saw for some apparent reason. Or perhaps the reason wasn’t his looks but rather how fancy he looked. 

“I might be. And who are you kind stranger. You seem fancy.” A finger was twirled playfully through her hair as she kept on giving him eyes that would have dragged him to bed had it not been for the other business he had to attend to. Clearly she latched onto whoever took her fancy. 

“I’m not but thank you. I was just wondering if you have a ship of your own. Such a beauty deserves a beautiful ship.” He decided to flirt back at her. Jeyne looked at her face. She rolled her eyes. 

A small giggle escaped her. He wondered how many times she had practiced that one for the men aboard the ship. Hoping that one of them would pay well enough for her to escape but they never did. They promised her lands and riches beyond her wildest dreams but their lies were the only thing that was consistent. 

“I wish I did. Then I could sail away from all of this. I slept with another man on the ship and now that we’re on land my father will call me a whore or something along those lines.”

“Well maybe you could.”

Theon didn’t have much gold on him in fact the only money he had was to pay for the boat or any other necessities he might have needed on his travels.

He looked down at his clothes remembering what his father had said last time. That he had paid the gold price for them. Well if he had paid the gold price for it then it must have been worth its weight in gold. He had a small Medallion that looked like it was Tyrell based but no matter the house it was still something that could potentially make her happy.

Without another word he quickly took the necklace off over his shoulders and placed it in her hands clasping them tightly over it. She had been so shocked at the act of random kindness that she didn't even get a chance to thank him before he left. 

She would have wed the man who kept his promise but when she looked around he was nowhere to be seen. He didn't have to go out of his way to do all of this for the people who he had wronged but it was spectacular that he did. In Theon’s mind if he was going to truly atone in this timeline he had two fix all of his ways and everyone who he felt he needed to apologise to. Even if he never said the words he could still do smaller actions which would vastly improve their lives.

They departed of the boat and the first thing they were assaulted with was the stench of the fisherman's catch and the salt washing up upon the rock. There were various small fishing boats along with a couple of other trading ones. A true Iron Born Villiage.

“So, this is home.” Jeyne and Theon were on the small dock. Theon let his legs just drift of from off the stone and let them swing along with the breeze. 

Theon took in a deep breath of the smell. It wasn't necessarily pleasant but it was bringing back memories of his childhood. Such simpler times that they were. 

“Suppose I’d best be heading to Pyke.”

Their moment of silence was interrupted by the sound of a horse rider approaching from behind them. Theon and Jeyne both ignored it at first in order to savour the view that they had a little bit longer. It had just gone early morning so the skies were bleak but they could always return at sundown for a view that would truly be spectacular. 

The horse came closer and soon followed the sound of someone who was dismounting from it.

“You’re heading to Pyke?” Came a female voice from behind him. He took a couple of seconds before turning around for he knew exactly whose voice to which it belonged. The last he had seen her was rowing away from the frosted covered Pyke as he was trying to give her time for her escape. 

Jeyne looked to her face and though Theon had yet to tell her she could already make a good assumption as to who it was. He had expected her to be looking at him with disgust for what had happened with Euron the first time around but then he gave himself a quick reminder that this wasn’t the same Yara. This was a Yara before everything had happened. 

Yara hadn’t changed a bit. She was younger definitely but she still had that devilish smirk upon her face. Still his same old sister. Her hair was cut short, she definitely suited it longer.

He knew that she was trying to see what type of character he had. 

He knew what her little game was this time. Her pretending to just be an iron Island lady who happened to be a little more than friendly. Very friendly.

Anytime Theon thought about it he would cringe and could feel the bile in his throat rising in disgust what he had done. To be fair it was Yara's fault for withholding information about their blood relation but it wouldn't have happened if he had just been a bit more respectful. A lot of things could have been solved in the past if he had just been a bit more respectful for many situations.

He could have played along with what she was doing. He could have acted as he was a total stranger but seeing as he had very little time to spend with her he wasted no time with her and his true identity.

“Yara. Oh Yara.” Before she could even get a word in she was in his grip and though she thought she was strong she could not have tried to escape.

“Bloody hells you recognise me?!” Yara exclaimed looking at him. She wouldn’t have recognised had it not been for what he was saying and the way he was dressed. In all honesty this was not what she expected her younger brother to look like. He was thin. Far too thin. She wondered if the Starks had been starving him this whole time but she decided against asking any questions as they had other catching up to do.

Last time she had checked her brother's hair was a prominent Brown colour not this light brown slowly turn back to its original shade... she was fairly certain that being in the cold northern winds wouldn't physically change his hair colour. At least she didn't think that it was possible. 

Or then again it could have just been something Theon chose to do of his own volition.

After all what better way to be rebellious against the Starks then dye his hair the same colour as the man who murdered Ned Stark's brother and father and the technical murder of his sister. Yes. She would like to assume it was a subtle "fuck you" to the people who took him. It made her happy to see her brother doing it.

She seemed a lot happier this time around. Maybe it was just a smirk on her face or perhaps it was the lack of stress wrinkles. Wrinkles she'd probably gained from worrying over her baby brother. He began to wonder how one person could feel guilty for their own existence.

Speaking of worrying then wondered if Robb was thinking about him because God knows Theon was thinking about Robb. He could picture him just now going around the camp and fighting battles and winning Wars. He was proud of him no matter what he was doing. 

Was it normal for him to miss Robb this much? Of course he missed Rob on a normal occasion but this was almost a longing Sensation. How he craved to just to get the next ship back home to see him again and his little freckled cheeks along with his eyes that he could spend hours looking and never tire at all. 

No matter Robb was not the priority now. His priority was sorting out the family business with his father and his sister knowing that his betrayal of them would be imminent. How ruthless it would seem that he just cast them aside opting for those who weren’t even his blood. 

Yara could see him internally flustered about something. There was an air around him that suggested he was thinking of something steamy. She slammed him in the back heartily and he continued his long held sigh. This made Yara laugh at him only it was external this time. 

“I can see you had a good boat ride brother.” She looked over to the docks and could see lots of women going to and from the ocean. She was looking at the specific features ofthose who had recently engaged in sexual activity. After all that must be what he was thinking about. Oddly enough there is no one who match that description except one girl who seemed overly happy. 

“Aye.” Theon regained himself. He moved his shoulders to get himself a bit more comfortable. Yara had the callous hands of a man and she hit bloody harder than one too. 

“Well we’d better not keep father waiting.” She said as the clouds moved in the sky to show just how low it had gotten. There was a thick tension with her that Theon failed to see. It hung around her head like a foul stench. Only the stench might end up being blood depending on what mood Balon was in. He’d been sour ever since he’d first heard tell of the war but once he’d gotten an idea he’d been rather jovial. All he relied on was his son’s co-operation. 

Balon had an idea in his head that he could still get Theon to be a proper Iron born man. To release himself of the Stark shackles that bound him to the North and embrace the Iron that was flowing within his blood. Yara had this idea as well to a lesser extent. After all he had been taught to be an iron born the first and most important years of his life so it makes sense he would still have Iron born in him. 

As mentioned before this wasn't her main line of thinking. If he was still like the nine year old they had stolen from them she knew it was too late.

Theon had broken bread with the Starks. He had sat with them at their dinners and had enjoyed their festivities. Those were memories which would probably hold a place in his heart whereas it had been years since they’d exchanged their words. Undoubtedly in her mind there was going to be a stronger connection to the North. 

It was only natural for her to want to consider every single possibility that could happen. 

“Balon.” it had been so long since he has even thought about him. His father who he had only seen for a short time. 

They had reached Castle Pyke. Theon hadn’t seen it for quite some time now. It was strong as iron and the blood of those who built it were etched in every crack and stone. It was an iron born strong hold alright. Clearly not strong enough to survive an attack by the associates of Robert’s rebellion. But strong enough to withstand the harsh crashing waves. 

Yara let the small boy go in first. He would announce their arrival so Balon could prepare himself to see his son again after all this time.

Theon looked down to his hands thinking of what he would say to his father. His older sibling saw this. She looked somewhat annoyed that he was so nervous about seeing their dad but she meant it in that teasing older sister way. With her here he would be able to do this.

He gently opened the door. 

Balon looked as decrepit as he ever did. He didn’t look younger at all which was something that rather surprised Theon but then again he supposed he had only seen Balon at one specific point in time. It made him really wonder how much he had aged after receiving the Bolton’s special package. He took comfort in knowing that at least in this timeline they would be spared the horror of receiving a dick in a box. His dick. 

Ramsay really did go the extra mile as apparently he even had the Dreadfort’s woodworker prepare a box with the Greyjoy’s emblem burnt across the top. Such dedication.   
Both children walked into the hall to be greeted by Balon who acknowledge Yara but then ignored Theon. It was how it had gone the first time. 

“The plans are made. It's time you heard them.”

”Father.”

Balon took a good stride in walking over to the war table. If Theon saw one more war table he would burn it on sight. “The wolf pup has gone south with the entirety of the Northern army at his back.

While he's tangling with the lion in the Westerlands, the North is ripe for the taking. The iron born will reave and pillage, as it was in the old days, all along the Northern Coast.

The more he spoke the more concern Theon had. Balon really had a terrible strategy. Anyone who had basic war experience would tell him it would be unwise to follow this through. If Theon was planning this he would have sided with Robb and betrayed him from the inside. Really he could have manipulated this world however he wanted to but that would be another betrayal of everyone. This was also what he thought the first time. 

“We'll spread our dominion across the green lands, securing the Neck and everything above. Every stronghold will yield to us, one by one.” He pointed it all out on the map. 

He continued to speak. Regretably. 

“Winterfell may defy us for a year, but what of it? The rest shall be ours, forest, field, and hall.” He was so entwined in his own vision that he failed to see Theon’s face as it turned as icy as the halls of Winterfell. The way he spoke of his second home sickened him to his very stomach

“He won't give up the North so easily.” The castle of Winterfell could hypothetically be taken but it would cause a great loss to the Iron Born people. 

Balon didn’t hear him, or at least elected to ignore him.

“They won't even know we're there... until it's too late.” He seemed to be under the impression that this was the plan to end all other plans. This was somehow the greatest scheme ever created that outwitted even the likes of Littlefinger or Varys. 

Theon was strong in his response. 

“This is madness father. You don’t nearly have the men nor the resources.” Theon was against him 100% in this situation. Jeyne was speaking when everyone else was silent. 

“He’s going to attack it regardless of what you do. Do not break the rules or there will be consequences.” A subtle reminder that Theon sorely needed. He supposed that he was getting a little carried away in terms of trying to convince him. As if he could actually change anything regarding Balon.

His father’s big headedness was going to be the death of him. Well maybe it was Euron who would be the death of him but it didn’t matter. One way or another all the Greyjoy men had an illness of the mind. Euron was mad in the sense that he had little regard for others live. Balon was mad in the sense that he thought he had a great importance of himself. Theon was mad in the sense that he had been broken man. 

A broken man who was on the recovering path every day. 

Balon couldn’t accept what his son was saying. He was doubting his plan. He had thought it through so perfectly that it couldn’t possibly go wrong. And his son was criticizing him. 

“Your time with the wolves has made you weak.” Balon could see his son was wearing a stark cloak. He had foolishly paid the gold price when he should have followed their family words and paid the price of Iron. He should have stolen it or made it himself. He wore his captors clothing like it was a mark of honour. 

“You’re betraying us for the young wolf? What do you gain from it?” Yara asked. Theon tried to explain how he could tell them that he wasn’t choosing sides in this battle. He wanted to remain as neutral as possible. His plan to remain neutral was going askew. 

“I’m not.” He tried telling them.

“Those are ripened lies leaving your lips. You are betraying the Iron born for a bunch of Wolves lead by Robb Stark.” Balon threw his hands up in the air in despair. When he received a Raven he was going to see his son he saw this both as an opportunity to reunite but more importantly bring them back to their glory. 

“I’m not betraying Robb for you!” The moment the words left his lips his fate was sealed. He had fulfilled his contract to the Gods and had made sure in this timeline he did not betray his brother in arms.

The guards in the room approached ever so closer in case Balon needed to give an order but he held them back. Only if his son turned to violence would he let them intervene. 

“You’d betray your own family for your captors?” Yara asked him, No, not asked rather yelled angrily. Her eyebrows pointed and her lip was snarled. Family meant everything to her and just when she thought she was about to get her brother back he goes and does this to all of them.

She could understand that it had been a while since they had seen each other but still they were his flesh and blood. He should have known to choose them without a second thought. If it had been her taken by the Starks then she would have done everything in her power to get herself away from them. Plotting, scheming and doing whatever it would take to get back to her family. She didn’t care if she insighted another war it would be worth it to be back home by the smell of the sea and the comfort of her own freedom. 

“Where’s your balls gone boy?” He was goading him on but little did he know that this would only make the situation more volatile than it already was. 

This was the straw that broke the camel's back. After years of problems concerning family and his own identity he wasn’t going to stand for this. He had accepted his duel identity as a Stark and as a Greyjoy but abuse was something he had taken enough of. Balon wasn't quite like Ramsay but over the years he had taken enough of everyone's shit and it was time he started to give out the shit to them. 

“Father. Fucking be quiet for once in your life and listen up!”

Even Jeyne couldn’t have seen this outburst coming up

“You don’t have the men. You don’t know the north well enough. I will tell you this once. Attacking the North will get us all slaughtered like lambs. Robb isn’t Ned Stark or Robert Baratheon. He will make you king of the iron islands if you help him. Give him our boats and you will see the Greyjoy’s returned to glory now and always.”

Both Yara and Balon looked towards each other at the sudden obscenity that came out of his mouth. 

Perhaps he had been looking through rose tinted glass when he thought about how much his father actually cared for him as a person

“He is the son of the man who killed your brothers. You would really so easily forget their memories? You've been warped by them. Open your eyes boy. We will take our revenge for your brothers and your mother who lost her own goddamn mind because of men like Ned Stark.” Balon was unknowingly using manipulation on him. 

Like an idiot he continued to open his mouth.

“Robb is a worthless leader who will only lead you down a path of destruction but if you want to be somebodies slave for the rest of your days then go ahead.”

It was Theon’s right eye that twitched a little. His lips moved to try and say something but nothing came out. He could have screamed. He wanted to scream. He needed to scream. 

“You are going to die cold and alone and as soon as you’re gone Yara will take over and she will be better then you will ever be!” Theon spat out like a wild animal. Holding back nothing in his mind. They were both surprised he wasn’t foaming at the mouth the way he was speaking. He was like a mad dog. His eyes were crazed. Jeyne tried to calm him but her words weren’t heard. She had to step aside and wait for this to play out. 

Upon the sea of troubles that were brewing Theon wished that he could have sailed away from this but he could no longer go back. His final decision had been made. Time began to stand still for Theon. For a moment his mind submerged him in total blackness and he could practically feel Ramsay’s hands pulling him back into Reek because as Ramsay always whispered into his ear he was never to raise his voice at people who were above him. Yara was utterly shocked by the wise words coming from her baby brother's mouth. 

He had just suggested that she would take the throne first after he died. Did Theon not want the Salt Throne?

“I may be your son by blood but you are no father of mine.” It was over. Theon was officially disowned from the Greyjoy name. There is no turning back to this timeline. The line had been cut between him and the Greyjoy name. It shouldn’t have come to this. It should have ended so much more like he had in mind. Him and Balon reconciling, Yara and him having a grand old time of things and maybe, just maybe he would have been allowed to see his mother and bring her back to her sense upon seeing her baby boy all grown up. 

Balon was somewhere between murdering his only surviving son and throttling him until he changed his mind. Maybe his fist could knock some sense into him. 

Balon may have seemed like a feeble old man but he was quick to grab a good lock of Theon’s hair and bring his head crashing down to the cold cobblestone floor. Theon got up surprisingly quickly. Balon tried again but Theon was able to evade them this time and ripped the iron chains from Balon’s neck. Each individual piece clattered against the floor and came to a halt moments after. Yara looked on in shock for a moment. 

The fists didn’t stop flying until Yara was able to get in between them. She was the stronger of them both and managed to break up the fighting. She yanked her brother away and put herself physically in the middle of the two so they would stop. Her only family couldn't be killing each other. 

His eyes began to change. Not reek but not Theon. Something else. Someone else. 

Both father and daughter saw something in the boy which they haven't seen before. The Iron born may have only have been known for their savage behaviour but this was something else. They could see the wolf within him emerging and it was at this point that the proclaimed King realised his son was no longer the Kraken but a pup doing the work of his master's. It disappointed him to see his son like this but he should have known that he was too far gone already. 

Yara couldn't recognise the boy before him. When he was 9 Theon had been a whiny push over of a son. Always crying to his mother and trying to keep up with his brothers and failing miserably at swordplay. 

The man before her was hardened. He had seen things that had changed him permanently. She should have been happy that he had grown up stronger than he was a child but the Stark contrast was actually quite frightening with her. Yara had nothing left of her childhood. Her mother was driven insane, her two older brothers killed in battle and her younger one was sent away and gone mad in a snow filled hellscape. 

This wasn't the reunion she had in mind. At least she would have wished that they could at least have one dinner together as a family before all the fighting was to break out. Maybe it was just tension from him traveling for so long? Perhaps he would see clearer in the morning. 

Theon wiped the sweat from his brow and take a deep breath in an attempt to slow his heart down for fear it would burst out his chest. Now that the room was quiet he could hear the sound of the waves outside. To Yara and Balon the drowned god wasn’t pleased but to Theon it was like a reassuring round of applause. He done the right thing this time he was sure of it. 

“Excuse me I have other affairs to attend to.” 

Theon swished his proud gold bought cloak in his father's face, his face was a layer of resentment covering a hidden fury which neither child knew he had. Balon walked over to the war table and without a second thought he threw away the kraken shaped pawn they had positioned at Robb’s Stark’s current war camp. The small clay figure shattered on the ground into smaller fragments. The head piece happened to go all the way to Theon’s feet. 

Theon stopped his walking out of the room and he took a moment to pick up the head of the kraken which had miraculously survived the impact. He picked it up and looked at it. If he had a spare moment he might have considered putting the kraken back together seeing as he had done it once before with himself. 

He slammed the door but he stayed a couple of seconds to see if he could hear what they were saying about him. Balon was now talking aloud to Yara, knowing Theon would hear him. 

“Shame. Yara it seems you will have to take Winterfell instead of him. Traitorous bastard! He is no son of mine. He will be disowned. Soft wolf fucker. Is that it? Do you fuck your king? Is that why you’re betraying us for him?”

Yara looked up to him in surprise. She tried to speak up against this. “I don’t know Winterfell as well as Theo-”

“You will take Winterfell instead of him.” He was making it clear that a woman such as Yara would be more capable then he would ever be. Yara put a hand up to stop him as it was evident he was going to keep on ranting about this. He was going a bit overboard with what he was saying. Sure Theon was betraying them but at the end of the day he was still his son. Yara didn’t want the family to be broken up as soon as it was put back together. 

“Father that’s enough. It’s clear he's made his choice.” 

Theon walked on a little bit ahead of Jeyne. Jeyne didn’t even realise until she heard a stifled cry. It was only one cry. Theon got over it in a second. He had been anticipating this to happen and he should have known it would end like this. So much for thinking positively and keeping on middle ground. 

He remembered where his room originally was. The one he was given in to sleep overnight. It had been his childhood room but clearly had renovations done to it. There was a bigger desk added and some stationary.

There were no toys on the bed. 

He liked to think that his mother had taken it with her to the islands for her so that she could remember her baby boy. 

It was a simpler time when his mother would read to him in this room. She would sing lullabies of the sea and of previous wars that had been fought. How brave men were keeping them safe even as the walls around them were coming down. He got out his quill and ink as he saw down at the small table in the room. 

He looked up as he was getting his paperwork sorted out. He saw that Jeyne was looking at a small portrait of the family that they had over the bed. She crossed her legs and sat like a child would. She was actually sort of cute when she was like this. Cute in that little sister sort of way. She was of course beautiful to any male who would see her but Theon only saw her as a good friend. A good, often sarcastic friend. 

“Why write the letter if you’re only going to do his with it?” She asked. 

Theon had told her about the first time around how he had burned the letter to Robb and had thus burned the bridges between them. He was going to the same here. There seemed no reason for him to be doing this. 

If he was pressed he could sort of give her an answer but he didn’t know himself why he was doing this. This was the best he could respond with. “I have to do it. It just feels right.”

Before resuming he wanted to ask her one more thing. 

“Go on. I know you want to tell me.” Theon said. She had been looking at Yara’s part of the painting for a little too long. He doubted that she was fascinated with the line work. 

“Tell you what?” Her focus was broken from the painting. 

“What your version of Yara looks like.” Theon said continuing to write the letter. He knew very little about her version of Yara and it seemed like a good time to bring it up. 

“Well her names not Yara for a start.” Jeyne said. 

“Oh you mentioned this before. What was it? Osha, Asa?” He had forgotten what she had said about her before. It had been completely different as to what she was called here. It seemed so random but then again she was in Sansa’s shoes so anything was possible. 

“Asha. I only ever saw your sister once. She has a face one would not forget.” She didn’t have to think very hard about what Asha looked like. “Her hair is more roguish. Short and black. Her face is long and her nose is all wrong. Her smile made up for it. She was very pretty when she was fighting.”

Theon scoffed jokingly. “Her nose?” It was an unusual thing to bring up but he supposed it make sense that they all look different to an extent. 

“It’s what I remember about her. Her smile was nice. She was so happy to see you alive as well.”

The noise of the pen moving against the paper was quick to die down. Theon put down the quill in a moment. Jeyne recollected how apparently Yara had yelled at him once he returned home after being a captive. With the slightest nod of his head she could tell that this Theon’s reunion hadn’t been a happy one. 

Jeyne didn’t think she was going to take to this Yara very well. She thought the female had been the most level headed of them all yet after hearing this she got a look at the darker side of her. If she returned to her family and they blamed her for what happened to her she thought she might have lost it. How Theon managed to want to actively stay by her side was amazing to her. 

They continued to write in silence. Jeyne could hear a difference in how he was writing the letter. Before it had been casual but now it seemed harsher

Yara was walking down the halls to get a more personal conversation with her brother. It was repetitive at this point. The last time she was looking for someone in the castle it had been looking for her sleep walking mother wherever she may have gone. Sometimes she would even find her mother sleep walking along the rickety rope bridge. Sometimes it was the highest room of the rebuilt keep. 

If her father didn’t knock the sense into her brother she could at least warm him up to the idea of working for her instead of their father. She could maybe get into his head a little better. After all the way he spoke to her since returning had been everything but rude. 

She wouldn't have found Theon had it not been for the light shining through the keyhole of the door. She looked at the door. It had been his childhood room. She should have figured that he would come here. The sentiment of the past still there.

Yara bent down on her knees to inspect what other affairs that Theon could possibly be talking about then she saw what he was doing. Better to check before invading his privacy. Upon his desk were a candle, some blackened wax which was heated to a neat boiling liquid and a stamp which had the kraken on it. Her eyes refused to blink as she was curious as to what he was doing. 

Upon the note she could not see the bulk of the text from where she was but she only needed to see one word to know what it was. In the bottom left corner was Robb’s name written in big cursive writing. He was going to tell of Balon’s plan to take the North.

A dread set in the pit of her stomach. If he sent that letter then their plans would be ruined before they began. 

Then he did the most curious of things. 

He burned it. 

He didn’t seem to notice the flame. He was nervous about doing it but he had done it. Yara had heard what he said. She knew that he was going back to the camp. But if he was why was he burning the letter?

He didn't want to yell at his father in fact he wanted to try and make amends before he knew that it would be the time for his demise. Though his choice might make his father hate him he knew at least he would have the opportunity to say goodbye one last time before he would drop off the face of the planet. Or rather be plunged into the ocean depths and their god’s watery hall. 

Yara on the other hand he wasn't exactly sure what would become of her. Sure she would live in relative peace for the years to come however he didn't know what would happen when their dear uncle came about. Whatever was to happen he was sure she would end up on the salt throne by the end of it.

Heavy smoke cleared from the room. The letter was nothing but cinders. He had thought about how he was going to do this and he knew exactly how to play it right. Theon waved his fingertips over the flames. The dull pain was familiar to him. Comforting almost. 

Yara was intrigued by all of this. It broke her heart that her baby brother was siding with the people who murdered her family but she could not blame him. She could only blame the foolish loyalty that resided in his heart. Her hand had been keeping her steady against the door but her nails were digging into it. 

Tired from the yelling match between his father he felt a certain type of tiredness befall him. He blew out the candle. He pushed Jeyne’s slim figure to the side of the bed and he himself fell on top of the mattress. They slept on it as there was only one bed in the room. Theon wished that sleep would befall him but it never came. The anxiety brewing in his stomach was too overpowering. 

“Goodnight Jeyne.” 

Yara heard only silence responding to him. 

-

The halls of Pyke had been awfully quiet that night. Balon was the only one who remained awake but that was out of his need to figure out how to work his plan without his son’s help. 

By the time the maids came to wake him up he had already left his room. He had left a note on his bed explaining where he had gone. They brought it to Yara who immediately had her horse readied to try and catch up with him in the docks. If they had brought it back to Balon who knows what would have happened. 

Theon stood where he had the first time. He looked back over everything. He couldn't believe he was really leaving again. It seemed like such a short time but he supposed everything had its time and it was his time to go. Neither of them had to say anything. He could breathe knowing that nothing major from here on in was to happen. The next stop would be the red wedding. Everything else could be simple and predictable. 

Theon knew it was this time to leave Pyke. It had been around two days a bit shorter then what he had originally done. Then again he didn’t have to deal with his baptism or the plans to take Winterfell. He had left Pyke castle after. Only this time the boat would be headed towards Robb's camp instead of Winterfell. 

There was a lot of bustling about the port. Men and women all boarding ships. Going to God knows where and living their various lives. Some of them would die. Some of them would live to a grand old age. They had the joy of not knowing their futures. 

Jeyne picked out all sort of characters. A woman with 5 children, a hooded man with a hidden agenda and a drunken group of swashbucklers. It was a fun guessing game she could play. 

Word had spread quickly about how Balon's last living son had defied him and with siding with the wolves and the North. The iron born looked at him with disgust they walk through the pier all glad he would be leaving soon. They didn't want a traitor for a prince. Luckily most of them did not know his face so they passed him by. Theon had opted to wear villagers clothing to make him less visible. 

They were about to get up to go to the ship when he could hear a horse galloping fast towards him. He turned to move out of its road when he looked up the rider. 

Yara only just managed to stop before the horse was to trample over him. The horse was a strong breed and must have been fast to catch up with him in such a short amount of time. Perhaps it was Pyke’s finest horse as a gift to their lady and soon to be queen. 

“You came?” Theon had thought that he would be gone before anyone would come to him.

“Of course I did. Need to see you off traitor.” Her voice conveyed hurt more than it did anger. She must have had a reason for coming here when she did. Call it sisterly instinct but she needed to see him off. They could insight a war with the Stark and Northern Armies if they returned Theon dead. A war that would devastate them all. 

"So this is it then?" Theon asked. His tone sombre. This would be the last time he would see his sister for some time so he had to make this time count. He didn’t want their final words to be sour. 

"I suppose it is." Annoyance still clear. Theon knew she had a reason to be here otherwise she wouldn’t have come at all. 

"I'm going to miss you Yara."

Yara sighed. As much as Theon had annoyed her she couldn't bring herself to loathe him entirely. "Is there no way I can convince you to change your mind? Are you really so set in stone?" Yara wanted to try at least one more time if it was possible to change his mind in any way. Her baby brother was still in there. He had burned a letter to Robb so he must have had some feelings left for them in his heart. He must have had some reason for not turning completely on them if he was concealing that they were going to invade the north. 

"You deserve the salt throne more than I ever will." Theon knew his actions had caused him to not want the salt throne but even then he was a horrible candidate. He was arrogant and a traitor. He still didn’t deserve it. They needed someone who could remain strong and who could be a rock for them. Someone to look upon and follow to the ends of the earth. 

"You think this lot will let me be queen?" She motioned towards the entire island. There were people all about. Most of them were men who would probably not want her to be queen. If it so happened that both Theon and her father were to die then there was no choice that it would have to go to her by default as the last living Greyjoy who wasn’t exiled. 

"There's always a first." Yara was a good queen for the people. She knew their ways and interacted with the common people as most kings and queens should be doing. "Ha ha. I suppose there is always the first. If the Starks meet us in battle what will you do?"

She didn’t mean to turn the conversation so serious but it had to be dealt with. There was a real chance that they would be on opposing sides of the war fronts and there was a chance they would meet in battle. 

"I'll make sure it never comes to that. I can guarantee your safety but I'm not sure about father." Balon was to die but Yara would be saved. Saved to see the end of the game of thrones and the end of the war with the dead. She would be a good queen despite dealing with the trauma of Euron. 

"Save us both." 

It was all Yara was asking. 

Yara had lost too much family. She wasn't going to hear talk of losing anymore. They were all they had left in the world. 

Theon wanted badly to tell her. Jeyne was always there as a reminder of what he could and couldn’t do. Jeyne was sympathetic towards him.

The big ship was sounding off. The last call for anyone who needed to be boarded. It would be leaving within the next couple of moments. Yara was keeping up her anger facade. 

"When I leave tell Mother... I miss her.” Even in this life it seemed he would never get to see his mother again. He could live with it both times for sure they would be reunited one way or another. Even if he chose to go to the Stark’s heavens his mother would find a way. She would take on the gods if it meant seeing her baby boy again. Yara let the anger drop. 

Theon did care about them. He cared about their failing mother at least. He did care he was just showing it in the wrong way. In her mind Theon’s strategy was the right way but in her heart the iron was hardened to steel and she couldn’t betray her family or more importantly the people who looked up to her. Without them they couldn't survive. Balon would only last so long and then the crown would be handed to Euron or Victerion. 

Yara nodded solemnly. The mother was currently residing with her sisters after she had mentally been obliterated by the deaths or taking all of her older male children. Yara had tried many a night to get her to come back to her senses however the maesters told her there was little hope in saving her and that the best option would be too send her away to somewhere where she could be more comfortable. 

This turned out to be better for everyone involved. Balon didn't have to worry about his wife's appearance, Yara could rest easy knowing her mother was in good hands and that Alannys would be away from the stress of everything. Another part of his mind was telling him not to see his mother. Just let the already perfect image he had of her stay that way in his mind for if he saw what she had become his heart would seize up from the shock. 

Theon boarded the boat and watched as Yara slowly got further and further away into the distance. She got more and more morose as he faded into the distance. If he squinted he would almost like to think that he could have made out tears falling down her face. Only if he squinted though. It was nice to think he would get such a tearful send off. 

\----

Theon wanted to take a nap. They had been on the boat for a couple of hours now and the calming motion of the sea rocking the boat. From the top of the rocking deck the people were moving about while and drinking their tits off. Like when they had been coming to the iron islands Theon slept below in a cabin of his own and it would be the same again. 

Theon was getting himself comfortable again with the blankets and the pillows. Jeyne remarked that he was somewhat of a lazy bones but given the rocky start he had it was understandable. She was going to stay up a little longer and walk around the ship. 

He didn’t realise how tired he was until his head had first hit the pillow. All was quiet. Too quiet. Jeyne was first made aware something wasn't right by the sudden creaking of the door. No one was given permission to enter the room. Even the captain wasn't allowed in. She looked up and saw that someone was meddling with the lock. 

A simple click and the person had effectively opened the door to the cabin. She watched as the hooded man from the shipyard earlier came closer to him and looked him over for a moment. Jeyne watched in horror as he pulled out a knife and looked it over as if he was proud of what he was about to do. 

Jeyne was trying her hardest to get him to wake up but he was only beginning to stir as the assassin came closer to his knife. She yanked on his arm but nothing came of it. The closer he got the more desperate she was becoming. 

“Theon please wake up! Robb! Yara! Ramsay!” 

It was upon that last note that he fully woke up. Like the snapping of her fingers he was up in an instant. He opened his eyes to see what she was panicking about but his attention wasn't drawn to her ghost like appearance rather the other figured who had been shrouded in the blackness. 

“You are no longer a son of Balon.” The assassin said quietly as he was mentally marking out where he would perform the execution, not realising that he was awake. 

“What the-” Theon only had seconds before he rolled over onto his side, narrowly missing the blade but he had less time before the attempted assassin went to plunge down on him again. He was fully awake when the assassin was trying to regain his focus. 

The man came after him once again but panic set in and Theon’s primal fighting urges were released completely. 

His eyes landed upon the knife. He knew the gleam of the knife anywhere. The knife was Iron born steel. It was different from regular steel. The discolouration was part of it. The reddish brown colour helped to make foes into thinking that it was a rusted blade and they’d get too cocky. That was when they would go in for the kill. 

Theon wrestled the blade out of his hand and smacked it away to the side out of his killers reach. He knew he couldn't die by that man’s weapons but still someone would making an attempt on his life he couldn't just sit back and do nothing.

They tussled about for a bit until Theon eventually got the upper hand. Theon had the man’s neck in his hands. He was restricting him of the air and slowly he became weaker but Theon had no intention of letting go however. His hands squeezed down harder on his fatty neck, almost drawing blood. The man tossed him off and tried to get the upper hand back. 

It was unfortunate for him that he wasn’t in control of any of his sense in that one moment. The man had his back to the ground and Theon was on top of him but he resumed crushing his neck and depriving him of oxygen. The assassin tried to do the same thing again but only this time Theon knew what he was going to do and he didn’t let him succeed. 

He heard something go crack and then he went limp underneath him he waited a couple seconds before he moved his hands away to make sure that he was dead. He didn’t even have to look at the body to know he was no longer living. He could see the red around his bulging eyes which was the main clue that he was no longer living. His neck turning a purple hue, the veins beginning to bulge as well.

Theon had sweat on his hands but it might as well have been blood. It was sticking to him and no matter how he wiped his hands it wouldn’t come clean. 

Theon was screaming and it was incredible how no one came to inspect what was going on. Someone should have been able to hear them. 

“What the hell?” Jeyne said breathlessly. She had been so shaken by the events that she too was phased. 

Theon kept on trying to breathe while still trying to clean his hands of the imaginary blood. 

“He tried to kill me. My father sent him. He tried to kill me.” Theon repeated himself several times as he tried to get over the shock. He hadn’t believed that he could do such a thing. Yara didn’t do this. At least that’s what he wanted to believe. It made sense that his father would do this. It was the only logical explanation. He had no idea of knowing who sent the assassin but judging from his father's cursing words yesterday it would likely be him.

“You can’t die Theon. You’re fine.” She tried to remind him. In the panic she too had forgotten that Theon was pretty much immortal from anyone who would try to harm him.

Theon could only die by Roose Bolton’s blade. He wouldn’t have died but that fact didn’t make any of the above okay. He was about to be killed because his father had been so hurt by his betrayal. This was beyond anything that had happened before. 

“Bastard.” Jeyne kicked his body and begun to drag him out. 

Jeyne started to tug the body along as much as her thin muscles would allow her to. His large size was making things incredibly difficult but when she decided to ask for Theon’s help she realized she would do it on her own seeing as currently he was incapable of doing so. She was sure it would be okay just to leave him at the end of the hall. Or chuck him in the sea. Happened all the time to random drunk sailors. 

Theon wasn’t crying or screaming but he was trying to breathe. How could the simplest of tasks have been so difficult? Theon felt helpless. Jeyne held him once before returning to dealing with the body. 

This was going to be tough to explain to Robb.


	7. War Camp: Part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theon has returned to the camp. He requests an unusual favour of Jeyne.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Body horror and mention of torture.

The worst part was done. 

He had returned from Pyke with minimal harm. 

The boat assassin had only left some minor damage to his arm but other than that he was relatively unharmed. It was taking a while to set in that he had actually done this. Physically at least as mentally it would be even worse. 

He had the nerve to stand up to his father and renounce his title once and for all. It made him a little giddy but with that followed a deep anxiety. No matter how much he tried to put it behind him he couldn’t get rid of the images from his mind. 

He doubted any Ironborn would even set foot near the camp but there was always a possibility that one would come and sneak up on him as the other assassin had tried to do. All it took was one person to ruin everything. Though it was clear they were alone he couldn’t help but take quick glances to the side to keep checking.

Theon and Jeyne’s adventures had just brought them to the furthest outskirts of the camp, about the edge of it. They were sure they hadn't been seen yet so they were okay to talk as they pleased. It had been raining so the horse's legs were hoof high in the mud. It was decreasing their journey speed by a lot but Theon didn’t mind so much. Talks with Jeyne were often the highlights of his day if they had a lot to talk about or one of them wanted to ramble on about one of their interests. 

Their conversations were becoming increasingly common and they were often about their similar interests. Today's topic was on that of music, after Theon began to hum a merry tune.

“You like the song Rains of Castamere?” Jeyne asked with surprise. 

“Just because it belongs to the enemy doesn't mean I can't like it.” Theon replied. Jeyne shaking her head in disbelief. He pursed his lips together and began to whistle the small tune to it. Her ears hadn’t heard the song since the Lannister Soldiers she used to pleasure in the whore house Littlefinger would force her to work in. 

She had decided to withhold the information about this from him. While it did feel like a heavy burden lifted off her she didn't want to be oversharing and it was something she would rather forget so there was no point in bringing it back up when it wasn’t needed. As Theon suspected he was doing too. Keeping things from her. 

This was just a small example of their conversational skills. 

It was about halfway back Theon stopped his charcoal coloured horse and asked Jeyne a rather unusual question. The mud squelched as they went to a grinding halt. He had been wondering this for a while but he never had any real reason to bring it up. That was until now. It would sort of be essential for this next part if his plan was to work. 

He wouldn’t be welcomed back with open arms, in fact, he was certain he would have been thrown into the cell along with Jamie Lannister. He needed to avoid that at all costs. Robb wouldn't trust him at all if he was in chains. The heavy chains would drag him down in the ranks.

“So you have control over me?” He asked raising a single eyebrow. 

Jeyne definitely found his phrasing odd but she answered regardless. While Theon was saying this because he had another motivation in mind he couldn’t help but feel awkward that essentially Jeyne could control every action he took if she had chosen to. It was helpful at some points but the idea of control. He let out a restrained sigh. 

“Eh...Yes I suppose.” 

It was true. The gods had given her powers over him to make sure he didn’t mess anything up too badly. She also had control over animals which made for handy dealings with Greywind whenever he got too noisy in the night or any horses who might have gotten loose in the camp. The horses would snarl and nip at Theon. His smell was off and they didn't like it. 

‘Here goes nothing.’ He thought to himself.

“Can you reopen my wounds? Just make them fresh again.” The nature of the question had shocked her. She didn’t know if he was some kind of person who enjoyed pain being inflicted onto him but she knew that since Ramsay happened it probably wasn't the case. He had some alternative purpose. She also had to be careful that this wasn't something else. Like Theon trying to change something he couldn’t. 

She replied gingerly. “Yes but why?”

“I actually do happen to have a plan. I made a lot of bad decisions but I know what I’m doing this time. There was a reason I made us wait a while before going back.” Theon's plan, in theory, should have worked but it was the part of it going into practice which should be the real test of his hindsight. 

This was a peculiar thing that Jeyne had been wondering about. When they had gotten off the boat Theon told them they were to stay in a small town for a week before they started to go back. Though she had tried to ask her questions Theon would always brush them off and almost ignored her. They'd spent a week drinking in a pub where no one knew them. Drowning in alcohol and thinking about their trip. It was fun but it felt like they were avoiding their responsability. 

Jeyne had only seen the top half of Theon’s scars before when he had been changing on the boat but she was very away of the mess that was below. She would do anything else apart from this. She'd rather not cause her one and only friend immense pain. 

“If you insist. It will hurt like when you first got them.” She warned. Theon’s mouth moved to say something but it closed when he couldn't think of what to say. He seemed to shift uncomfortably but he should have known it would be a price he would have to pay. The iron price. It didn’t surprise him that the gods weren’t making this easy for him. 

His plan wasn’t something that he *technically* had to do but it was the easiest path to follow. Or at the very most it would make everything else a little bit easier to explain. 

“Of course.” He swallowed down his fear and waited for her to begin the process. The horrible, drawn-out process. With a flick of her tongue, Jeyne started to recite something in an ancient tongue, maybe ancient Valerian and at first Theon felt nothing. He was worrying that it wasn't going to work but then it hit him like a bolt of lightning. Every single moment with Ramsay striking his body at the one moment. Like, begin trapped in the jaws of a manic wolf, tearing him to shreds. 

Contorting, howling, unnatural. Theon began to writhe in pain as scars on his body reopened and were exposed to the cold air and the pain of his previous life began to come back to him. Theon wanted to take it back. His deepest wishes were for Jeyne to make the pain stop but she had heard what he had commanded and she kept on causing him the pain. 

Jeyne’s eyes remained closed, she saw so many disturbing horrors in her life and she didn't’ want to see anymore. She continued to speak but her voice was more rushed, wanting to hurry this up as much as she possibly could. 

Scars dripped red, scabs peeled away in little red and white flakes and his bruises become more vibrant than they had ever been. Ramsay’s torture had been compressed into on singular moment and the cry of anguish he was certain could be heard throughout the camp. Saliva left his mouth as he momentarily left his senses

Theon had been writhing in pain the whole time but he had been standing more or less. Now was the first time he allowed himself to drop to the ground and just process the sudden burst of agony. His body wavering like a fallen leaf before dropping into the wet mud. It caked all around his face, he gagged at the disgusting taste of it. After he died he thought it would be the last time it would be forced into his mouth. 

His eyelids were forced open. He didn’t dare to blink. It would hurt too much. He had forgotten the time when Ramsay and his boys had quite randomly decided to pour some of the maesters unlisted brews into his eyes. Blinking would only increase the amount of pain that he was in. He needed water. Something to wash away the burning. 

Grey Wind was currently sleeping within Robb’s tent but with his expert hearing, he began to howl along with Theon. It was like a sudden bolt of lightning had struck Robb right down his spine. Robb took a moment to adjust to the shock of the sudden noise. The crisp chilling breeze came into the tent. It flapped the cloth a little bit as if it was beaconing him to come forward. Robb got a foreboding feeling something was about to happen. Not like he had lost a battle or a soldier had betrayed him, it felt...More personal...

Back with the duo, Jeyne was so lost. Theon was panicking but this was what he had wanted. Her hand was placed on his shoulder to bring the madman back to his senses but unfortunately, he was too wrapped up in his own shell of pain to notice. She had finished her incantation a while ago but now it seemed he had gotten over the initial shock. Completely understandable.

“Jey-ne!” Theon managed to mutter out as his senses were beginning to return to him. It was like a boar that had been shot with an arrow the sounds he made. Breathing burned. The very air he was breathing was like fire. 

“I'm here!” Jeyne was trying her best to get himself calm and she knew exactly how to. She cared for him as if she were Alyanns. She wasn’t quite as frantic as he was but she still felt her throat closing with the incoming anxiety. Her hands brushing over any part of him that wasn't bleeding. 

Theon broke the barrier in his mind between fiction and reality. 

“I’m fin-e now. I ne-ed the maester.” His voice begged her. He sounded like a drunkard but Jeyne could make out what was being said through the slurred speech. He didn’t need the maester for the injuries. All he needed was the pain relief. Some of the sweet creamy milk of the poppy to dull everything. 

He tried to put himself back on his horse. The first attempt resulted in him falling on his backside and once again groaning out in pain. This wasn’t a strong enough deterrent, however. He was determined more than anything to get himself onto his horse. Again he tried and again he fell down. 

With ragged breath he hoisted himself up once more, anticipating the same result again. Unlike the past two times this time he managed to stay upon the steed. If he were to be sitting the way that he was taught then he would have just been creating more pain for himself. He was leaning on him to that his head was placed just beside the horse's mane. The small breaths were moving the mane out of place. 

Jeyne steadied him on his horse once again just to make sure that he wouldn’t fall off and have the same problem again. 

Now they were set to go back and face Robb and the rest of the camp. 

-

 

The watchtower guards were the first to see him coming up on the horizon. Theon was still hunched over on his horse. At least that’s what the guards could see. Had it not been for the kraken upon his cloak they would have turned him away. The guards up on the tower sounded down for some riders to go out and investigate who was arriving at their camp. They went in to move upon the so-called traitor but the closer they looked the more they saw how weak the rider looked, how feeble. 

“Theon Greyjoy approaches.” The guard announced getting everyone who could hear at his attention. 

Robb had been taking Greywind for a walk to try and get him to calm down from his howling and barking. Greywind was the first to run forwards with great bounds of speed and power. He ran away from Robb with great power. 

“Where?” Robb asked looking around until he saw the rider come closer. He had an angered look on his face for what his sister had done to his home. He was going to keep him prisoner until he saw how he was riding. His back was hunched over and looked like he was about to fall off. His legs limp and his whole body looking somewhere between frigid and lankey. 

Everyone in the camp, and probably the Seven Kingdoms, had heard about Yara Greyjoy’s invasion of Winterfell. How she had taken 20 good men and scared the men into submitting to her. She had them under her control. Even worse she had taken his two brothers hostage.

Bran and Rickon must have been terrified of her. 

When he found out where Theon was he would have taken his head. Then again something had struck him as odd during all of this. Theon hadn’t been mentioned in any reports once. No scouts had seen him with Yara and apparently when talked to about it she refused to answer anything with a straight answer. Always something else. 

“Wait...something's wrong with him.” His eyes widened at the sight of him. His fragile brown hair more noticeable than ever. It looked thin but he was practically slumped on his horse, riding as though he were sleeping. Robb’s dread just kept on building and building. 

He was riding as if he was greatly pained which was 100% true. Theon was feeling Ramsay’s pain all over again and also he was riding at the moment as well which, in all honesty, didn’t make matters any better. He couldn’t hold the reins as his fingers were bloody, his nails had blackened from the amount of times knives, iron nails and splinters had been forced under it. He was a mess but it would be worth it as soon as Robb believed it with his own eyes. Robb needed to be the one to see him. 

His stomach hurting internally from god knows what. 

“Get the maester.” When he got closer Robb could see dried blood on his head and a tear in his shirt. He looked weak. He had a feeling he would be needing it.

Then their eyes met and Robb had a moment where he was thinking of nothing. The shock of seeing him had made it that powerful. All thoughts of Yara went out of his head as he saw him getting ever closer. The only thing he cared about at the current moment was seeing what was wrong with him. He needed to see Theon, his best friend. The man beside him had not done as he had asked and this infuriated Robb to a point of grabbing him by his tunic. He was half throttling him until he looked him dead in his blue eyes. 

“Are you deaf in the ear? Get the maester!” Robb found himself saying for the second time, yelling to the subordinate who was beside him. Robb's anger was known and the guard quick ran to the medics tent stumbling when Robb had let him go. 

When Theon was close enough he allowed himself to fall off his horse and lay there on the ground. The pain had reached an unimaginable level by the time he was out of the forest. The blood was sticking all over his body and all he wanted to do was rest. He thought his pain tolerance was pretty high but this proved once and for all it was only Ramsay who could give him the feeling of pain. 

Thankfully Jeyne had made it so he wasn’t bleeding out but the wounds were as fresh as the day they were made and a little bit of blood only for the believability of the whole charade. The pain had to be real though. She hated that Theon was asking this of her and she still wasn’t sure why he was doing this. She couldn't even ask him if his plan was working or not. A plan that better have been worth it. 

He tried to crawl forward but the feeling of the mud and thorns were digging into his side. He felt as if he tried to crawl anymore then he would pass out and die on the spot. If he could die again that was. 

Robb was instantly by his brother's side and turned him over to observe the extent of the damage. When he rolled Theon over he wished he hadn’t. He thought that the white hair looked bad on him when it had first been seen but his sunken eyes and prudent cheekbones said otherwise. This was the worst he'd ever see the boy. His eyes were rolling back and forth in the back of his head. He wished he could have described the extent of the torture but he’d need a scribe to write down all the ones he could see visually, not including the ones that defiantly hidden beneath his clothes. There was enough blood stained on it to be mistaken for a battlefield. 

Initially, Robb assumed the Lannisters had gotten a hold of him but not even the Lannisters would stoop to this level to get information. They may have been murderous psychopaths but nothing would have made this okay. 

A small group of men had also formed around him. They had confused expressions from what Theon's blurred vision could tell. All he could see was Robb’s face scrunching in panic. 

“Gods what happened to you?” He said trying to get Theon to focus on his face but his eyes were failing to take focus. Theon’s heart would have been pounding but Robb’s worried voice was bringing him into a sort of focus. His hair was blocking some of his face so he moved it out of the way, instantly regretting what he had done as he was finally able to see more of the damage. 

He couldn’t help but feel guilty about Robb’s concern. Of course, he didn’t know what he had done in the past but that didn't mean it hadn’t happened. 

Theon could have pushed him away but feeling Robb’s chest, his heart, slowly pounding gave him just a drop of tranquillity in his ocean of pain. Robb was panicking and all Theon could focus on his his freckled face. An unusual calm. 

Theon weakly reached up his hand to stroke Robb’s cheek. Theon had never been happier while Robb was noticing his lack of fingers. Robb let out a small scream while trying to comfort him. The panic and pressure was getting to him. 

He could feel his throat was hoarse but not totally useless. If he were to try his hardest he would be able to get a select few words out. The next part of his plan. 

“I arrive-d back on land he had m-en waiting for me. They hun-ted me, tor-tur-ed me and left me in the dir-t to die.” Theon would kill for water to wash the disgusting taste out of his mouth. Robb’s shaking hands reached for his wine pouch and unscrewed the cork for Theon to gulp down the liquid pain relief. It was the only liquid he had. 

That was not nearly even close to the extent of torture he had gone through at the hands of Ramsay but he didn’t want to arouse any more suspicion then he already had.

“Who Theon?” Robb tried to get more out of Theon, anything he could know about anyone who did this to him. They would pay for doing this. 

He was throwing him for concern. He didn’t know if his own men had done this or someone else. It could have been Balon. But no one in their right mind would do this to their only male son, even if they hadn't seen him for years. 

So help the men who had done this. He would hand them over to Lord Bolton for doing this. He knew of Lord Bolton’s nature and that many would rather wish the wall or death over the wrath of the Lord of the Dreadfort. 

“It h-urts.” He said as he was about to pass out from his blinding pain. Jeyne thought she was the most concerned about him. That was until she had seen Robb’s face. He was a mixture of fear and worry. He was a king but he'd been brought to his knees 

The main maester in the camp and Talisa both came running out and they looked him over. They muttered their swears underneath their breath as they looked upon him. Talisa got the bandages while the Maester began to check his body for wounds. 

Two random soldiers were quick to bring a sort of stretcher and he was placed on it. They carried him off while Robb was left in shock on the dirty ground. There was too much blood in the soil. Praying a silent prayer that Theon would be alright. Theon tried to hold out for Robb’s hand as he got further and further away from him. 

\--  
Lady Catelyn Stark had been waiting worried in her room. It was what she had been doing ever since she had received the Raven about Yara Greyjoy taking over Winterfell and keeping her boys as prisoners. Her fingers tapped in a rhythmic motion against the table. 

Many dark thoughts filled her head with what was happening to them right now. Had she harmed them? How was Rickon reacting to her and how were Bran’s legs? So many uncertainties for her precious baby boys. And her girls too. All but one of her children were free. She tapped her fingers even more agitatedly on the desk. There had been a commotion outside and advised to stay in her tent. 

Her attention was drawn away from the map when she was suddenly drawn to her son running into the tent covered in blood. She gasped and was up like a shot to see if he had any wounds. She wouldn’t be losing her baby like this. Mothers instinct kicked in. 

Her hands could find no wounds and she felt relief. Her tall brave boy was still standing up strong. 

“Mother. Theon came back.”

She scoffed. “The traitorous bastard having the gall to come back here? After what he’s done to our family!” Catelyn would take the knife to him. He was their friend and he had allowed his sister to do this. She should have seen this coming. She had told Robb plenty of times that sending Theon was a terrible idea yet he had refused to listen and now they were here. Homeless and afraid. 

“Mother he's been tortured. We don't know who by. The maester has him now. There was so much blood mother. So much.” His sounded so small. 

At the mention of torture Catelyn's entire body stiffened. All anger towards him dissipated. While she was very aware of the prospect of torture she never imagined that someone so close to her would be experiencing it. Especially seeing as how he had only gone away for a negotiation topic. She was trying to think of why he would have been tortured. 

Balon had something to do with this. Her gloved hand tightened as she figured out what had happened. Her eyes looked to Robb and she knew that her baby boy was too frazzled to even think about who harmed Theon in the first place. It made sense that Balon would be the one to do it. Who else would?

Only time would tell if he would be okay.

She held out her arms and baby boy and he went in for a hug. The last time he had done this was just after they had received the raven about Ned’s death. He was sobbing into her shoulder as he'd done before. He was but a child again. 

“I did this to him. I sent him to Balon and he’s paying for my choice. If he dies his blood is on my hands.” Robb sobbed. 

“The only one with blood on his hands is the people who did this to him. He's still alive. If he made it this far he can make it a little further.”

-

It had been hours since Theon was first dragged back into the camp. In those hours Robb and his generals had been having several very long and difficult discussions about the ward. Many of the Northern Lords called for Theon’s head. After all his sister had done what she had done by boldly taking Winterfell and keep both Stark princes as her hostages. It was what the majority wanted

Half of them wanted to let Theon die as direct action against Yara and her actions against the North. The other half wanted to keep him alive but as a hostage. The men were rowdy and they were yelling over the top of each other. Robb remained silent and kept his hands closed. All wanted to be heard. 

“He’s always been a horrible little boy. Let's show Balon what we mean by killing him.”

“Balon has just done that to his only living son! He’ll be useless as a hostage. You can’t have a hostage the enemy doesn’t care about.” One of the lords of a minor Northern house said, making a vaild point. 

Robb couldn't take this anymore. They were talking about a man who was hanging onto his life and they were talking about him like he was meat. Whether he should be sold or used as bait for a trap. It was pathetic. 

“That’s enough! We wait for him to wake up and we find out what happened with Balon. If it even was him.” They seemed to be forgetting that no one knew exactly who had done the torture and it was only their own assumptions. 

“My King. We cannot know what is going to happen in Winterfe-”

All the men were distracted by a sudden new person coming into the tent. The clinking of metal was the first indication. 

It happened to be the maester comming in. Robb was foolishly hoping for the best while Catelyn and everyone else could see the blood upon his chain. If there was that much blood she knew it couldn’t be a good thing. Her anger was washed away and replaced with a worry she couldn’t describe. Like a gaping hole had opened up in the bottom of her stomach. 

His look was devoid of any joy and he seemed sheepish about the way to phrase his next sentence. 

“There…was no pulse, My King. The injuries were far too severe.” His heart was heavy with the weight of the news. No man deserved what he had seen. All his time as a maester and yet he had not seen something as disgusting as this boys body.

The maester had examined him thoroughly, however, there was nothing that could have been done to save the man. Some female medics were too sickened by the sight to work on him and some of the men were too nauseous to even make a start. All of them had tried in one way or another but ultimately they had all failed him. 

Robb sat down in the wake of the shock. His world was crumbling more than it already was. He knew war came with casualties but not his closest friend. Theon was a young man who had his whole life ahead of him. He had gone to his father and he wound up back at Robb’s feet a bleeding mess. 

Catelyn let out a wobbled sigh. She cared as much for the boy as she did Jon but she would never wish this upon anyone’s child. She had wished Jon dead at one point but never torture. Something about it just made her uneasy, like it was somehow her fault. Yet another person close to her family met a grisly fate. 

Robb’s war generals and advisors could see he was hurt and they all shared a silent look. They only now realised that all of their talking had been for nothing. They had disrespected the dead and it would take all the prayers in the world to clean them of their sins. 

Lord Umber was the first to speak up. 

“We will leave you to mourn your Grace.” None of them may have liked the Greyjoy but they could all at least say he had been loyal in his death. Or at least that’s what they convinced themselves. He was still such a young lad for this to have happened to him. It should have been an old man past his time. 

They all left and only three remained in the tent. Catelyn, Robb and the bearer of bad news. 

Robb kept on breathing heavily as he began to remember his friend's final smile. 

“They Killed him. They killed my brother.” Robb could only repeat the words. He was thinking of every time he saw Theon and how he should have told him more things. Like how he shouldn’t be worrying about which house he belongs to and he should just be himself if it were to make sense. How he was such an idiot for chasing every girl he saw. Or boy depending. How he really did accept him for who he was. All these words never to be spoken. And now they never had a chance to. 

The guilt was the first thing to set into Robb’s mind. He had specifically sent Theon. He had chosen him to go. Theon was dead by his indirect hand. He wouldn’t have minded so much if it had been another one of the generals. Another body on his hands regardless. 

The silence reached a level that was uncomfortable so the maester opened his lips. It was a mistake on his half. 

“He was better off dead mi’lord.” The maester said sparingly. Catelyn had been in her own little bubble of thought but when she heard him speak she knew would have to hold her son back for fear of blood being spilled right before her eyes. Such blunt words at a time that was needed for sensitivity and thinking. 

Robb would have slain the maester for daring to even think of such a despicable thing to say. “How could you say that?! How dare you! Do you wish to taste my blade?” If it had not been for his mother present Robb surly would have sliced his sword from his heart. The doctor was unsure and his eyes were trained on the Lady of Winterfell. He didn’t fear Robb as much as he feared her. He then realised how bad that sounded without them knowing what he had found out from the initial inspection of his body. 

“I feel somewhat uncomfortable talking about this matter in front of Lady Catelyn.” His eyes met Catelyn’s only for a second but in that singular moment she managed to strike the fear of the seven gods into him. 

Tired of being talked about as if she was not in the room Catelyn spoke. “What you can say in front of my son you can say in front of me. Theon is my ward now seeing as my husband lost his head.” Her tone was known to both. It was her angry voice. You see she wasn't the type who would yell. With the mention of Ned both knew she was meaning business and she would murder whoever was denying the things she wanted to know. She was the one who simply gave you one look and your heart would feel like stopping on the spot to save you whatever wounding words she was going to inflict upon you next. 

The lump in his throat swallowed the maester began to speak what he knew. 

“Very well. He could no longer have the ability to consummate any marriage.” His phrasing was deliberate. Both could tell. This confused both mother and son but Catelyn was the first to get an idea of what he was trying to imply, she looked to him and the maester simply gave a nod of his head. Robb needed a little more help. Robb only caught on when Catelyn felt an awkward cough tickling her throat, along with a couple of indicating glances as she kept casting her eyes downwards. 

Robb got the picture. He was about to have it spelt out for him regardless. 

“He was castrated. It was a process crudely done. Pain was meant to be inflicted upon him. The rest of his body was just as bad.” He spat out quickly. Robb was trying his hardest to maintain a king like posture but through his shaking hands everyone could see how he was dying on the inside. 

Catelyn’s eyes looked into her baby boys and knew exactly what she was seeing going on in his mind. He was thinking how perhaps had he not sent Theon he would still be alive. The blame was on him. Catelyn would tell him how it was Balon’s fault but Robb did have to take his part of the blame as any wrong king should. 

“I need… to be alone. The king needs time to grieve.” Robb cast his eyes down as he let the tears begin to fall. 

There was no debate and both were glad to be out of the tent. The maester was scurrying off somewhere where he would be able to get over that terrifying experience.

Robb was thinking about many things but while his mind should have been set in the past he couldn’t help but think about the future of house Stark. 

This was the second major casualty of this war. First losing his father had destroyed him but now his best friend as well. He felt like he was becoming isolated and he began to wonder if he should send his mother away for safekeeping. So many people he loved were losing their lives at an alarming rate and if he lost his mother as well then there truly would be no going back for him. Perhaps Braavos would be safer for her. 

Who else would die? Bran? Rickon? Sansa? Arya? They could all be next thanks to him. People were going to die because of him. It was something that couldn’t be helped. As much as he tried to prepare himself for this harsh reality he still liked to think it would be like the tales of old where the gallant kings were victorious over their adversaries. 

He poured himself a glass of wine in the hopes it would calm him. He tried to drink it. The smell. It was the same wine he had drunk during the first feast with the Lannister’s. A time when he had been smiling and happy. A time when Theon had spilt wine on his tunic and they enjoyed the evening and had a wonderful truth filled talk in the morning. In a fit of rage, he threw the cup at the wall and watched as it clanked to the ground, the red liquid flowing around him. 

He soon followed as his legs felt too weak to support his weight. 

He wept for he didn’t know what else to do. 

Catelyn stayed for a moment outside of the tent. Her boy was sobbing silently. If only she could hold her boy and tell him everything was going to be okay. Robb needed time to be alone and simply remember. Besides the Queen Mother needed her own things to be doing. She needed to pay her respects to someone who she greatly admired. 

Catelyn was thinking of the present day. 

She had been very conflicted. She had treated Theon like she had treated Jon snow. poorly. Though she had tried with Jon to be a mother she had never once tried with the Kraken prince. He was a ward, hostage who she didn't need to concern herself with. She could let the servants do the work for her. 

However much like Jon Snow she had begun to regret not treating him better. Being a spoilt little brat in his childhood but now he had grown into a sensible young man. One who had given this life for her own son. For the cause of winning this war. A soldier to the end. 

After talking with a couple of the other maesters in the camp she learned he was in the main tent. Or rather his body was resting there. She had been quick to walk towards it. The guards outside granted her access to his body. They would leave her alone. 

His body was resting upon a green sheet. The material looked cheap. His body was a lot worse then she had been expecting. He looked like he had fought a war all by himself. It was a shame it was a war he could not win. Cuts and bruises. Fingers and toes all missing. The just reaffirmed her unease at the prospect of torture. His arms were intriguing. Marks adorned them like they were silk sleeves of a torso garment. It was horrible but beneath the blood she could have sworn that she saw something like an X mark. An odd mark to be left...

His face was telling a different story than that of his body. He looked peaceful in his death. A small smile curled up in the corner of his lips. 

This boy had died motherless and fatherless. Practically all of his family had left him. 

He was so tragic. Her guilt was eating her up. She'd never once cared for the boy because she'd thought he would never truly be loyal to them. He had proved the entire north wrong. It only cost him his life. 

Catelyn had done something she had never done before. With what little resources she had she picked up a small sticks, straw and whatever else could be formed into a small prayer wheel. Her hands were working quickly but carefully. Previously she had only done it for her own flesh and blood but there was no debate that it would have to be done now with Theon. She'd scolded her children for playing with mud so this made her have a dry laugh. 

Sticks and mud made up the majority of the trinket but it would do for now. She’d be able to make a better one for all of her children later on when the war was one. Her nails had dirt trapped beneath the nails but she didn’t care. His nails were a lot worse than hers in contrast. The black beneath them made her gag a little bit. She had seen horrors before but not like this. As a Tully she could stomach it. 

She began to pray for him. To all seven gods that she believed in. She clasped her hands together tightly hoping that somehow it would make it more effective in them hearing her. “I pray you gods bring him back to Robb.” Hell she even had the drowned god in the back of her mind if it was his religion. She knew men didn’t come back from the dead but it was worth a shot. 

She placed the small wheel on his marked chest. It was roughly the size of his heart. 

She looked closer at his features and then wiped her thumb slowly over his forehead. The tension was still in his head. He may have been dead but the pain still was written all over his eyes. Catelyn planted a kiss upon the wards forehead and cleared her throat. She had always thought that he was a Greyjoy but now she could see he had been raised as a pure Stark. Now it was like one of her own Children had been tortured upon the rack. She was too late to realise this and she hadn’t even said a kind word to him before. 

With a swift movement with the grace of a lady she composed herself and turned to walk out. She had said her prayers and now and she had other things to attend to. She couldn’t just spend all of her time praying and wishing. She was the king's mother and had to play an active part in this war. Someone had to take control while letting Robb take his time. He hadn't been allowed to mourn Ned as everyone began looking to him but this time they could look to her for a short while. Robb deserved at least that. 

As she was about to leave the tent something made her stop. Her ears caught a sound from behind her. A human sound. But that was impossible as there was no living person there. Perhaps it was the wintry winds playing a trick on her. With a shake of her head she went to leave again. 

With her foot placed toward she began to walk again but the sound grew like a storm and she had no choice but to turn. 

All the prophets, witches and maester in the world could not have prepared her for what happened next. 

Theon's scabbed body woke with a slurred motion and after a cough. He began to sway from side to side as if he had been shaken like a squirrel in the mouth of a rabid mutt. He looked like he had been heavily drunk and was waking up the morning after, liquor on his lips. She suppressed her urge to scream as maybe it was simply a hallucination from all the shocks that today had brought but the more that he moved the surer she became that these weren’t simply illusions.

Lazily his eyes looked down upon the ragged cloth barely covering what was left of his ruined manhood. Though the medic had sewed him up to the best of his abilities, using his extensive medical knowledge, it was unsalvageable. As he moved the cloth was sent drifting to the ground and Catelyn could help her morbid curiosity but her better half knew to look elsewhere. 

Lady Catelyn all but glanced before return her eyes to his face. The situation was impossible. Her heart was welling up at the sight of him living and breathing. 

He had come back to life. 

This wasn't possible. Catelyn had seen his scarred body. No human man could have gone through everything that he had and lived to tell the tale. For god's sake he hadn't even been breathing the entire time she had been here. Men just didn’t come back like this. 

“Ergggh.” He wasn’t quite sober from the pain yet so his words were only slurred and jumbled. His moved upwards and caused the prayer wheel to fall onto the ground and break upon impact. Catelyn could not imagine what it would be like to come back from the dead although she was feeling her skin crawl at the sight of it. He was pale. Far too pale for a living man. 

“Lady Cate-lyn?” Theon spoke. He only assumed it was her. Only one woman would have such a fancy dress. He recognised the softness in her voice too. 

“Seven Hells!” Catelyn broke the silence as now that she was over the initial shock she had a wave of questions ready for him to tell her answers, answers such as what was going on. She was not one of swearing as any good lady should know but seeing this she thought she was justified in doing so. 

Upon hearing the King’s mother swearing the guard who had been waiting patiently outside rushed in to see what was going on. He too used uncivilised language whenever he saw what the fuss was about. 

Theon's plan was rolling out smoothly thus far but now all he had to do was convince her that he was innocent. The final part of the plan. 

“Where’s Robb! My-My-My father! He’s going to invade W-w-Winterfell with 20 me-n! You must hurry before it is too late. Yara!” His words were dissolving into jumbled nonsense at this rate. 

As swiftly as he got up was as swiftly as he was down again Catelyn was motherly to him for the first time in her life as she was by his side and saying words of comfort. If it had not been for her auburn hair he could have mistaken her for his own mother. Her features were softened but showed her stress through her wrinkles. 

“Calm down. Theon hush. Guard! Get anyone who knows how to use medicine.” She told him while pushing the dirty hair from the side of his face to make sure he could see her fully and hopefully get a little bit more aware of his surroundings. The guard nodded and left the two of them alone. 

“Wait where…?” He knew exactly where he was he just wanted to put on a show for her. He knew exactly where he was. 

“Your back at Robb’s camp. What happened?” The main question that everyone seemed to be asking. 

“Please tell me you got my raven?” Theon said, without the smirk on his face. Inside he was happy that this was all going so well but unfortunately the pain wasn’t allowing him to enjoy his little manipulation. 

At the mention of a raven it all began to take form. She realised that he must have intended to warn them about what was to happen but something or someone had prevented that from happening. Likely his father. 

“No Ravens arrived from the Iron Islands.” Catelyn told him. Theon’s acting was incredible at this point. Jeyne was impressed that she was even convinced herself that was what happened to him. 

He coughed and began to lull his head a little bit to the side. “I tried to se-end a warning. Father’s men c-c-c-caught me. He disowned-d-d me. He left me with...brutes. They tried to torture me for information. I tried Lady Stark please I tried so hard I’m sorry!” He was doing what Ramsay had taught him to do best. Beg. 

Lady Catelyn calmed him and patted his hair even softer than before. “Hush hush. You need rest. The Maester will soon be in with medicine and food.” She touched his hair once again as she went to leave. That bewildered look still glazed over her eyes. She wondered where the hell they were. They were taking too long. 

“Everything hurts. Don’t leave me.” It was true. He was loving how kind Catelyn was being and he didn't want it to end. It had been so long since anyone had shown motherly affection towards him and he needed it. This wasn't planned to happen but he was going along with it. Even though he felt a bit dishonest. If it wasn't for Jeyne he would have spoken more. 

“I know. I’ll be back soon.” Catelyn turned to leave but she stopped. “Thank you. I thought you would have betrayed us for your family.” Catelyn had never been that nice to Theon before in his life but there was apparently a first time for everything to happen.

“Stark-is my family.” This time for real he was going to pass out on her. Jerking away had taken a lot of energy out of him and the pain was still there. Theon feigned going into unconsciousness and Catelyn smiled at the sleeping figure. She had figured out what had happened and a slight sense of relief that they hadn't lost an ally. Robb could save his tears for another day. She had gathered enough to know. 

When they were alone Theon moved to a comfortable position. It had worked. 

“So that’s what you did?” Jeyne said coming into Theon’s line of view and giving him a quick hand up back to the bed. 

“You worked it out?” He just wanted to make sure that the both of them were on the same page in terms of his plan. 

“You don’t have to hide your marks anymore. They have a reason to be there now. Very clever.” Jeyne was impressed with this. His plan had paid off and now all they had to do was wait for the red wedding with no more annoying questions to have to deal with and awkwardly try to hide his scars. It would be a relief for the both of them and their goals were halfway completed. 

Catelyn, on the other hand, had only one goal was in her mind at the moment. With the prowess and force of a lion she tore into the maester who was busy with potions in the other tent and she began to drag him by the chain to Robb’s tent. The pudgy man had a look of shock set upon his face and he wasn't quite sure what she was doing. 

Robb had just about finished crying when the large body fell through the flaps of the tent door. He looked to see that it was the head medic of the camp. Robb was about to grab his sword when soon followed the silhouette of a woman. Not just any woman however. His mother. 

“Mother what is the meaning of this?” He had just finished crying and he would have liked a couple more moments for him to recover before being interrupted by anyone. 

“You dare lie to the king Maester?” She was in her mother wolf mode but Robb didn’t seem to take much notice. She looked down to the terrified medic who just like Robb had no idea what on earth she was going on about. 

“Whatever do you mean?” He legitimately had no idea what she was talking about. His voice quivering in fear that he could very well lose his head if he said the wrong thing. 

“Theon Greyjoy lives.” She said. 

Robb's head perked up and all tears in his eyes ceased. He did want to believe it and now his mother had confirmed it. She looked to her son and gave a confirming nod. Robb’s sobs of pain turned to sobs of relief. Oh joyous days. 

The only one not happy about the situation was the maester who had personally seen the dead body. 

“What?” The maester had seen the body. 

“He's alive and talking.” Catelyn was still getting over the shock herself. A man coming back to life. Only someone truly special would have the ability to do that. It must have been a miracle sent from the gods themselves. Robb got up from the spot he had been sat in for the past hour and went right up to Cat. He needed to know every single last detail of anything that Theon might have said while he was out of it. 

“What does he say? Who did this?” Robb needed to know this most of all. 

When he found out what had happened to his brother he would personally send the Bolton’s to go deal with them. The Bolton’s were known for being the most notorious torturous in the whole of the North. Though it was considered against the laws of the gods it didn’t stop them. 

“He has not betrayed you. The ‘He’ Theon was referring to was his father. He tried to write to you but his plan was found out and his father made his men do…did terrible things to him.”

“His own father did this?! He shall hang by the neck until dead!” Robb exclaimed using all of his might to smack the squid pawn off the battle map, specifically where Pyke was located. Robb’s fury made him blind and everyone who was not Theon would die. He couldn't imagine any father doing that to his own child. 

“Robb, you cannot kill Balon. He will suffer but they'll never accept Theon as their ruler after this. 

“Why not?”

“The ironborn are brutish. They do not so much care for blood. Rather power and strength. Yara has a better claim then he ever will if word gets out about his...manhood.” Catelyn said. She knew realistically he would be homeless after this. He wouldn’t be Ironborn and the Northern men would reject him. No matter what he simply couldn’t win given his situation. 

He was a man with no place in the world. 

“The Northern men are brutish. They wanted to torture Theon even more for what his sister did. They wanted blood for blood. Yara has taken over Winterfell and Bran and Rickon are their hostages. Robb said. He knew that Theon was screwed as well but for the time being they should celebrate him being alive and well. The air filling his lungs. 

“I think we should all focus on who’s important here. We can discuss this later when he’s more alert."

With that final statement Robb ran towards the medic's tent. 

-

Robb had been told to wait outside the tent while the maester got him properly looked at. Robb was trying to prepare himself for what he was going to see and what he was going to say. What kind of words do you say to someone who's just been brutally tortured by their own family? He had seen his face but the rest of his body was a different story. If he was missing fingers then for sure he would be missing more parts. 

The maester walked out his sleeves covered in red. Robb tried not to look at it and instead focused on his eyes.

"I have given him the milk of the poppy so he may or may not be able to answer your questions." He said while showing him an empty bottle. If Theon had needed that much of the drug in his system then Robb wasn't sure if he would ever truly feel pain again.

He walked into the tent and saw that Theon had a blanket over him. He was awake but his focus seemed all over the place. Robb had seen him under the influence of alcohol before but never drugs. 

“Theon...Brother…” He was gentle with his words unaware if he was even listening to him. 

Theon was vaguely aware of what was going on. It was all a bit dizzy but nothing he couldn’t handle. Milk of the poppy he assumed. The maester had probably mixed it in with his food or some way. He had refused it at first saying he could handle it on his own. Jeyne was playing with his hands seeing if she could get a good response. He vaguely felt it. At least she seemed to be getting amusement out of the situation. 

Jeyne saw Robb and got a gut feeling that the two of them could use these moments alone. She winked a small good luck to Theon and left the tent swiftly. If Theon knew her well enough then he knew that she would go play with Greywind seeing as right now he would have been all alone in his kennel. 

He motioned for Robb to come over to him. 

He propped himself up the best he could. His arms messed up a couple of times as his coordination was non-existent. Robb held him sit up properly. Theon laughed. 

“How are you feeling?” Robb asked him. A stupid question but he couldn't think of how else to open. 

“I can’t feel my face but other then that I’m totally fine.” A joke. Robb laughed as much as one could given the circumstances. He had obviously been crying a lot and this was one thing Theon hadn’t accounted for in his plan. Theon wiped away the redness in his eyes. Well he pressed his thumb to his forehead and started to wipe. Robb didn’t tell him to stop. 

Theon stopped and got more comfortable. He winced as he tried to find a position his back would be more comfortable in. The wince took Robb by surprise. He supposed there must have been still a great amount of pain despite the milk of the poppy doing its job. He looked like he had been dragged through every single layer of the seven hells. Robb was angry. He was doing that thing with his hands where he rubbed his thumb against the index finger in a repetitive manner. Theon could take three guesses as to what it was he was annoyed about. His blood family. No doubt he had learned of how he supposedly got into such a state in the first place. 

He was muttering names underneath his breath. The ones he was going to kill. He rattled off Balon, then the thugs, then his sister. 

“Don't kill Yara.” If Theon had one request for Robb it would be this. 

Robb stopped his naming to ask theon one simple question. “What? Why in the seven hells not?!”

“I cannot consummate anymore. If she dies then so does my family.” There was no one else who was suitable to carry on the main blood line. Yara needed to be the one who survived or else the Iron Islands would depend on Euron’s spawn and god knows what that would entail. It would undoubtedly be a legitimized bastard as well. The whole thing would be a recipe for disaster. Balon is too old. Even if he did they’d been malformed. That would be if he was still fertile. 

“You have an uncle do you not?” Robb said. Theon had mentioned his uncle once or twice before. Always in a sour tone. Robb often wondered why but Theon went oddly silent to change the subject. And scratch at his chest at the same time. 

“I do but I see him as unfit. He has been exiled.” Theon replied. One thing he could be thankful off was not having to see Euron ever again in this timeline. Theon would be dead a long time before he would ever show up on the scene. Not seeing that psychopathic mug. 

“So what is to be done then? She has taken my home and my brothers captive? The men want their blood and hers.” Someone had to pay for this crime or else the men would turn. If Robb just sat back and did nothing he would be seen as weak. Also as much as he was grateful his friend was alive it only made the Yara situation a lot more difficult. 

“Let me talk to her.” Theon said this but in doing so he caused Robb’s face to drop in horror and disbelief. This was getting bloody ridiculous. Theon had already suffered far greater than any man Robb had ever known and yet he wanted to walk right back to the people who had caused his injury in the first place and this was not on for Robb. He wouldn't let his friend into the lion's den again. 

“And let you fall into another family trap?” Robb said, the anger just flicking of off his tongue. He didn’t want to be saying these harsh things seeing as he had just gone through hell but it was only because he didn’t want the same thing happening again to him. 

“She's my sister. She'll be more reasonable than Balon.” As he said this he had been so passionate the blanket keeping his scars hidden out of view was falling.

“That torture must have made you mad in the head.” Robb couldn’t quite accept what he was saying so humour was the way to go for sure. 

Theon fell silent. He pulled the blanket up around his torso to hide the marks. He knew that Robb had seen the marks made on at least his shoulders. Bite marks were included within that variety along with blue bruises and razor blade scars. The happiness he felt could only last so long before the shame came creeping back in like some kind of venomous snake. 

Theon turned away hoping it would be more effective and that’s when Robb saw his back. Robb had seen men who had their arms cut off to the bone. He’d seen teeth being removed and people without heads but this was by far the vilest thing he’d ever seen. Like his mother he gagged a little bit. 

“I suppose it must have.” Theon tossed again and spared Robb from the mess that was his back. 

Robb had always tried not to glance down he really did. It was simply impossible to ignore. With some clothes it would be easy enough to hide the major damage but other than that his face was forever going to be noticed by a crowd. The blanket was only so good at covering things.

Aside from the scars there was something else he could have occupied his time with. No point thinking about the past. Now they had to think about the future and what it meant for them. How they would proceed now he was risen from the grave. 

“I wanted to give you something. I was going to save it for when the war was done but I think you've earned it for your service.” Robb pulled out a box from behind his back. 

Theon wasn’t sure if it was the drugs doing this or whether he really had been driven mad by the pain but from what it seemed like Robb was about to make a commitment of his love. Theon braced himself but when Robb flipped open the box he got a lot more then he was expecting. 

In this box laid a small broach with a wolves paw upon it. Freshly made and prepared with the finest silver that money could buy.

“Robb...Is this...am I?” Theon reached his hand gently towards it but it was then that Robb noticed that his hands were missing a significant amount of fingers. Theon picked it up with ease and turned to look at it. The silver was freshly mined and freshly crafted by the best metal worker that the army had to offer. 

“You are my hand no matter what anyone says. If mother wants me to take someone else I'll tell her no.” Robb had been thinking about this and he was sure that he wanted Theon to be his hand. It only made sense. After all his own father had been best friends with Robert Baratheon and he had been given the honour of being his hand. He didn't know what to say. An overwhelming feeling consumed him. Even if he didn't get Robb's affection he'd still be able to be his best friend and that was truly something to be grateful for. 

Theon rubbed his hand over it and he wrapped his hands around Robb for a hug. He ignored the stinging of his wounds and instead focused on Robb’s warmth. This was so much better than anything he could have imagined. Robb returned the hug tighter then Theon had ever felt it before. He had been so touch starved that he didn’t even realise he was making Robb bleed by how tight his grip was. Robb didn’t want to say anything. He would never take him for granted again. 

They both let each other go and Robb wiped away a stray tear. He had no reason to be sad anymore but his eyes decided to keep on working. 

“You should get some rest. I will be back later.”

Theon kept a grip on Robb’s sleeve. “Wait before you go. What is to be done with me? I know Yara has already taken Winterfell.”

There would be consequences for his sister's actions. It was clear that Yara hadn’t faked the burning of the boys yet or else he would have been killed. He still had time to fix things before they got worse. Robb didn’t know what to tell him. It had been a hard discussion for them and the lords had all left it open because of his supposed death. Now it was back up in the air. 

“Just get some rest. We will come to a decision in the morning.” Theon had been through one hell of a day and sleep would be something he would need. 

“Goodnight Robb.”

“Goodnight Theon.”


	8. Roose's Tent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two people run away from the camp. There's a discussion about who should go to Winterfell and talk with Yara. Roose and Theon clash. Catelyn's suspicions are answered by an old friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jeyne's views on Brienne are my own. Enjoy as always. sorry it took long to get out.

Recovery had not been easy, he was about to say that much. It had been agony but since the maesters were keeping him pretty drugged up he’d been doing just fine. They’d recommended various things to help speed up the process. Getting rest, eating a regular intervals and most important getting a healthy dose of fresh air. 

In order to practice the third step Theon decided to go on a small walk to stretch his legs around the camp. With Jeyne for company his walks were never boring. They were able to just enjoy the scenery in their own time. Their walks often went normally except for tonight's walk. SOmething interesting happened. 

He saw two figures in the distance. One was taller than the other and...Wearing armour? Why would anyone be up at this time be walking away from the camp. Unless….

“Jeyne can you see who they are?” He always had her scout out things before he’d personally investigate. They couldn’t harm her but they could harm him if he got too close. Theon felt nervous though he had little reason to be. There were supposed to be all friends and allies here. 

“One’s a tall blonde fellow and the other is some man... Oh gods. That’s Jaime Lannister.” She yelled back to him as she got closer to the pair. She recognised Jamie in an instant. Beneath that grub laid a rather handsome fellow. Theon had heard about this from Ramsay. 

Catelyn had become so desperate for word about the girls that she gave into the Lannister demands and traded a prisoner for a prisoner. Jaime Lannister from the south was worth two girls from the north. Ramsay didn’t spend much time on their journey as he was more interested in telling him how Locke had lobbed off his hand and made him wear it around his neck. How it decayed and turned to black liquid each baking hot day.

He had forgotten this part. He was rugged and more unkempt then the last time he had seen him. His freedom was so close. He didn’t think he’d be here to witness this event happening. Then again he didn’t think that he’d see a lot of things this time around but that was the way that it seemed to work here. 

Well this was the last time he was going to see him, might as well give him a reminder of his promise. He may have been a kingslayer but he should have still had some honour left. Enough honour to keep Sansa safe. 

He slowly approached and hid behind a tree before making himself known. He would only go when Jeyne gave an approving nodd. 

She nodded and he knew it was show time. He stopped the two of them where they stood when he stepped out side all of a sudden. The sudden noise caused a frightened Jamie to take a giant human shield behind Brienne. 

“Lady Brienne?” He was partially terrified of her. They both knew she could and would be 100% capable of beating his ass. Her practically muscles could be seen through the armour and her sword seemed too heavy for any of the men to lift. 

Jeyne gasped upon seeing the face of the lady knight, the moon illuminating her face and enhancing her features. 

“Greyjoy…” Both knew that the jig was up. Theon had seen them trying to escape from the camp. Jamie was still hiding behind the giant woman and she rolled her eyes at him being scared of her. She drew her sword. She didn’t want it to come to violence but if he was stopping her mission then it would have to come to it.

He looked to the moon. It was going to be the dawn soon. Nd they’d never make it out if they didn’t begin to move it. And if they got caught this might have displeased the gods. 

Jamie was more concerned with the fact that he had been found out by Robb Stark’s best friend. There was no way they could escape now. An alarm would be raised and he would be back in his chains and the big lady would be executed for treason. He didn’t care but she was his only way out of here. 

His response confused the both of them. Jamie blinking in surprise while Brienne simply shot him a look. 

“How are you still here. You should have been gone hours ago?” The dark of the night was coming to a close so it was about time they get moving before people realised they were missing. 

Jamie shouldn’t really have been surprised. He had seemed eager to let him go the last time so this time for sure he would keep his word. Jamie noticed the woman coming closer to her sword. This could have been an opportunity for escape while they were both distracted but he’d accomplish nothing with the restraints on him. They were beginning to hurt his wrists. How could a swordsman fight with only one hand. 

Brienne had been assured that it was only her and the guard who knew they would be trading the lord of casterly Rock. 

“Lady Catelyn...told you?” Brienne had been alone in the tent with Catelyn and she had been promised that it was only her who knew of these arrangements. She also had higher doubt that she’d tell someone like Theon seeing as how close he was to Robb. 

“Ehhhh…I overheard what she was planning to do and while I disagree with her she needs the girls back. She needs to. I never saw you two. Understand?” Theon was saying this as if he planned it for some reason. His confidence had gotten him far in terms of his lies and it seemed to be working yet again. 

Jamie looked down as Theon began to glare at him. 

“You used the knife. You promised me. No matter. As long as Sansa gets protection in the end. Anyway do you understand. “

He had broken his promise. he had found that Jamie had stabbed a guard during his first escape attempt. Theon had been disappointed to learn this knowledge but he supposed that it couldn’t be helped in the end. Jamie didn't have time to explain that it really had been an accident. He had strangler man with the chains but when another had come to restrain him the knife had slipped and the way their ensuing fight went it ended up in his neck. 

Jeyne wasn’t about to scold him. She was too busy being fixated on the goddess before her. She touched her muscles and gasped softly. They were so firm. She has the face of true beauty but she could have protected anyone she wanted too. If she were to ever have a personal guard she would want it to be her. 

Brienne was dead set on killing him. If it was the last thing that they did. Once he showed that he was an ally instead of an enemy she slowly put away her suspicion but not entirely. Men weren’t to be trusted. The only man that she trusted was Renly and he was already dead. Jamie was a scum of a Lord and she got a feeling that Theon would be the same. 

“We do.” Both said in unison. 

“Remember the gift for Sansa, Jaime. Tell Brienne as well. Good traveling.” He said with a finality. There was nothing else to talk about. 

Before he left he felt a certain obligation to talk to Brienne about the whole bear pit fiasco. It was the right thing to do after all. Brienne was someone he had never met in his first life save for the occasional glance across the dragonpit. Even then no words were spoken. Though rumours said she had faced hardships in her life. A kindred spirit. 

“Bear bear and the maiden fair.” He sang softly. Brienne turned her head lightly. She knew people often sang this song about her behind her back.

“I wish you well Lady Tarth. Kill anyone you see. You’re very impressive with a sword i’ve heard. One of the best fighters in the world. You could take on the mountain if you really wanted to. Beware of this one Jamie, You’re good but she’s better.”

Brienne smirked. That had been one of the kindest compliments she had received since Renly had passed. A couple of males in this camp had either mocked her or made disgusting comments but then insisted that they were only light jokes when she held a knife to their throats. It wasn’t all of the men. Some men just asked her about her armour but those few bad ones were the people who really got to her. SO to hear Theon saying nice words was a relief. 

“Thank you.” She said with a quick nod of her head. 

It seemed that there was nothing else to be said. Nothing else at all. Theon turned to leave and Brienne and Jaime did the exact same thing. Theon left with his girl and Jamie left was his. Only one couple knew more than the other. 

Jamie and Brienne walked a good distance and didn’t start talking until they were further out to where no one could possibly hear them.

“What in the Seven Hells was that about?” She began to wonder out loud. It was odd. 

“I don’t know. He’s a strange one that boy. It doesn’t matter.” Jaime said. He really had been a strange boy. Ever since the first moments of meeting him in Winterfell there was always something off about him. Something no one would be able to place. Of course he’d had a lot of alone time to try and figure it out but no matter what way he looked at it there was no reason. The best he’d come up with was that Varys had perhaps taken him on as an apprentice. It did explain the weird mysterious nature about him.

“What did he mean by knife?” He would not have said it without having a good reason to so he must have done something with him before.

He tensed up but brushed it off. This was something Brienne didn’t need to know. They were already on a rocky start and it didn’t need to get any worse than it already was. 

“Doesn’t matter. It got taken away from me.” He muttered just loud enough for her to hear. obviously when she got back from leaving Jaime back at Kings Landing she would have to ask Lady Catelyn what this was all about. 

They were gone for a good while before Theon and Jeyne spoke again. They wanted to make sure they were really alone. It seemed harder and harder for them to get a moment together. 

“Who was that angel?” Jeyne asked. Her cheeks were still flushed red.

Theon didn't know the look on her face. He looked back to Brienne’s figure in the distance then back to Jeyne. No. He came to the shocking realisation of what was happening. Jeyne of House Poole had a crush on Lady Brienne of House Tarth. Of all the people he never thought it would be the likes of Brienne. 

“That was Brienne of Tarth. Brienne the beauty they call her.” He told her. She was still trying to get over the encounter. 

“I can see why. She’s amazing. A knight whose beautiful. I never realised there could be female knights.My heart is fluttering thinking about her. I could have had someone like that protecting me before...” A possibility that she had never thought possible had broadened up so many horizons for her. Well not now considering her circumstances but she would have loved one now. 

He didn’t know how he would break it to her. He’d have to try and do it gently. 

“They...say her name Ironically.” 

A soft ‘oh’ escaped her lips. “So they mean it as an insult?” She asked. He nodded his confirmation. 

She could hardly believe it. Jeyne did find her very beautiful. Her face though rough looking suited her well. How could anyone mock her? It would be the evil men of course who would be doing it. They were threatened by her and they mocked her because of it. 

Well at least she had the one certified good man beside her at all times. 

“How rude of them.” She said. It was uncalled for them to disrespect a lady who was simply doing her best. 

“I know. I know.” He said. 

Silence. The conversation much like the one with Jaime and Brienne running dry. Theon was not necessarily a bad person for conversation but when things were awkward or silent he didn’t always have the best way to continue. 

“So you’re just like me then? Suppose it makes sense.” He asked, detensing the situation as he always did. 

“What do you mean?” She questioned him. Did that mean he too liked the looks of the Maiden of Tarth? He’d never mentioned meeting her before so it made sense. 

“What I meant to say is that you are a double edged blade so to speak.” Since he had been talking with commoners he had learnt all sorts of new colourful language. The higher borns would always refer to it in some disgusting way by either calling it buggery, Pillow biting or something else but the common people didn't seem to mind all that much and would casually refer to it through several different phrases. 

‘A double edged sword, a human Pendulum, a lover of all. Or Theon’s all time favourite ‘A Dornishmen’. Mostly derived from the Red Viper but was applicable to all people across the land of Dorne. All those expressions of things that go both ways. 

“Ah. Yes.” She caught on and had a quiet laugh to herself. Yet another thing that they had in common with each other. What a day that had been filled to the brim with surprises. 

He liked times like this. Just when they could have good fashioned fun without their pasts or trauma rearing its ugly head. They could just enjoy their company and have good laughs and cheer. 

They laughed and continued. A moment later their laughter was rather rudely interrupted. 

“Greyjoy. Come along. We are having a meeting.” A voice came from behind them shocking the both of them

“A meeting? At this time of the night.” All meetings were daytime unless they were super important. He was anxious but put his anxiety to the side. 

“Yes. Come along.” He was told. 

He didn’t want to know what this was about but the pit of his stomach was telling him what it really was. Jeyne could sense his anxiousness rising and firmly grabbed his shoulder. He gave a small nod to her. As long as she was here he could do this. 

He was called into the small tent. The cloth was red and blue all over. The red of blood and the blue of Bolton. All eyes were on him as he walked in, while his eyes were on the familiar colour scheme. 

He had a slight limp as he walked which was noticed by all who looked at his legs. They saw it not as a sign of weakness but rather one of a battle wound. He had suffered for them. They respected that. It must have taken a lot of guts to go an disobey his family like that.

Some of the Lord has looked disgusted with him. They were clearly under the assumption he was a traitor despite Robb telling them the story of what had truly happened. Theon glared back at them. He was done with all of them. They all knew how they felt about each other. Some believed that he had tortured himself. Something about getting Robb’s trust completely. Theon knew it was all bullocks.

The high up lords wanted to use him as a hostage of some kind. He wasn’t going to be a hostage again as long as he lived. He would have faked his death before they would even try to be held captive. After all his lack of a heart beat meant that he could have easily gotten out of any situations with his enemies if he had wanted to.

Robb never allowed that to happen fully though. Theon was a friend of the family and he wouldn’t be a hostage as long as he still rode on Grey Winds back. Theon only felt safe when Robb was in the room with him. Robb would protect him from anything that would wish him harm. 

He could protect himself of course but having Robb by his side completed the safety circle. 

Roose was there in the room with them. He still couldn’t stand the bastard.

In some respects he was more terrifying than Ramsay. Roose knew exactly how to get what he wanted and he was always focused on getting exactly what he wanted. By force seemed to be his favourite approach. 

Theon wasn’t some defenceless maiden who needed help all the time. He could murder someone if it called for it. He had done it on the boat with ease and he was still a warrior. He just needed to remind himself of that from time to time. 

“We need to talk about Yara.” Robb said grimly. Theon looked down at his feet not wanting to see whatever look was on Robb’s face.

Was it disappointment? Maybe. He couldn’t say for sure. He knew how this looked. 

“Your sister has taken my home of Winterfell with 20 men and reinforcements are coming constantly.” Robb hated doing this to him. It was the equivalent if Sansa had somehow managed to take over Pyke. Robb was mad at Theon when really he should have been mad at Yara. Robb was only pretending to be mad at Theon for the showmanship. He needed the lords to all agree on something before they could decide their plan of attack.

An attack from his sibling could cause Theon to turn on him. Which wouldn’t work out for anyone. Theon couldn’t betray them. Not now at such a crucial point in time. 

There were so many possibilities which he had to consider before they made a move.  
Theon knew this day was bound to come about. Yara must have had some difficulty taking over Winterfell without his help but honestly he could believe that she would be able to do it without him. There wasn’t a lot that he wouldn’t be able to accomplish. Apparently defeating their uncle was one of them.

“We need to send men up.” Robb felt like he needed to get his home back this instant. Winterfell was the pride of the North. It was where the hopeless turned to when there was little hope for them and where they went when times had become hard. If they lost Winterfell then they lost the North.

His mother could see where he was coming from. He had the same look in his amber eyes that his father did. The one where he wanted to get justice above everything else. She admired his spirit but it was just a shame that it had been misplaced at the wrong time.

Catelyn spoke. “We need to keep the men here. What if we are attacked and we are missing men who could save other men’s lives.”

Robb knew strategically they needed to do both but it was trying to find a way around it that was the main problem. He couldn’t think of what was the proper way to deal with the problem. Theon could see he had the look about him. The look when his authority had been questioned and Greywind had swiftly dealt with the issue. Sadly they knew one dire wolf wouldn’t be able to solve it this time.

Roose was sitting at the end of the table apart from the others. Theon knew exactly what he was about to suggest to them. Roose wasn’t about to get the satisfaction of it. 

“I can talk to her.” Theon spoke softly.

Theon tried to justify him leaving once again. He wasn’t pleading just yet but he would have if he was forced to.

Robb’s head shook. He wasn’t about to allow his friend to go back to the family that had tried to torture him to death. Not a chance in the coldest of hells.

“You’re only just beginning to walk properly what makes you think that you can ride all the way to Winterfell?”. About five different pairs of eyes shot down to his legs. Theon’s leg was still rather out of place, it was twisted in an unnatural fashion but has been set back into the right place. Theon tried to stand up properly. He was in great pain to be doing this but he needed the opportunity to get to Yara first.

If he could take several punches to the head, then a little bit of a broken leg was the least of his concerns.

“She’s my sister.” Theon would crawl on hot ashes if it meant he would be able to do what he couldn’t before. He could be able to save her this time and nothing was going to get in his way. Not his mind playing tricks on him or him trying to preserve himself.

“And Balon was your father. Look how that turned out.” Roose was quick to add on with a smirk. Roose didn’t want any norther going up. He was counting on Ramsay to go up for him and recapture Winterfell when it was still vulnerable then he would burn it down to cinders. Roose had already agreed the deal with Tywin. He needed this in order to win the North for his own.

“My King let the flayed man banner take back Winterfell.” Roose was desperate to prove his loyalty to the king. If he did then it would end up being under no suspicion whatsoever. Robb was in favour of this idea. He could put the sea based killers against the Land based killers. It just added up who would be able to win.

Once they took Winterfell then they’d be able to get this war back on track. And more importantly working in his favour.

“You’d leave my side so suddenly?” Robb didn’t know what was wrong with today but all of his allies were talking like they were mad in their heads. Was everyone trying to make this difficult for him?

Roose motioned towards himself but then he nodded his head gently. Theon was glaring him down as he did so. If only looks could kill. Catelyn didn’t miss this hostility. It was like a non-verbal battle of the minds.

“Not me my King. My bastard. He’s at the Dreadfort. It would only take him a couple of days to reach Winterfell. It’s only a couple of hundred miles.” Roose said. He may have regretted taking Ramsay in sometimes but it was in times like this he seemed to serve him well. He supposed it was handy to have some of his flesh and blood by his side to help him out with some of the more hand on jobs which required looking at.

Robb did see the sense in Roose’s offer. Why spend time sending their own men away when they could have some of the Dreadfort men go and take back the home in a quicker amount of time. Roose seemed pleased that Robb was considering it but Theon kept on quickly glancing between the two. Robb knew his bastards reputation and yet he was still going to let him go to claim his sister. Did Robb have any idea how enraged that made him?

“Robb don’t let him or his bastard anywhere near Winterfell. Let me go. I can take the fastest horse and only a few riders. I can get there first and talk her out of anything stupid. Roose’s bastard would only make things worse.” Theon knew exactly what stupid thing he was talking about. Faking the deaths of the boys. He had no doubt in his mind that they’d be able to lose her just like they had been able to lose him.

“Roose...Oh my god. Theon…” Jeyne was only now realising about who this was. She’d always seen him around the camp and assumed that he was simply a lower guard of House Bolton but not the head himself. She could have been sick. He looked nothing like her Roose but simply knowing what he did across both lives was enough to strike terror into her heart. 

Jeyne dug her nails into Theon’s skin and almost drew blood. Theon ignored it. 

“I promise you my bastard will give your sister mercy.” Roose was lying through his teeth. He could persuade the king with ease. After all the Greyjoy boy was just in shock and he really did want to hurt his sister for allowing this to happen. An attack on Theon had been an attack on the king and the rest House Greyjoy had to suffer for this.

Everyone could see the peach colour from his face drain at the mention of Ramsay. His facial features tensed up but he wasn’t about to have a panic attack in front of the Lords and Lady.

Roose didn’t have a bone of mercy in his body none of the Bolton’s did. They were all liars and deceptive bastards who would kill their way to the top. Roose had previously been in the position of Sending ramsay to go collect him as if he were some simple hunting prize.

Theon scoffed yet again. He couldn’t believe he was hearing this. Roose saying Ramsay was going to have mercy meant nothing to him. Ramsay’s only mercy was death and he wouldn’t do it with such a high profile prisoner.

When Theon refused to answer him Roose spoke up again in a calm matter. If he could make it seem like theon was the one being unreasonable here then Robb would side with him in the end deeming Theon too emotional.

“I’ll personally give her everything that she deserves for what she did. It will be my mercy”

Theon had reached boiling point. This man was slimier than Littlefinger could ever hope to be. He knew. And he had the absolute gall to smile at them as he was saying so.

 

“Like you had mercy on the miller and his wife!” 

 

Theon said slamming his hands down on the table and then retracting it back in pain. The hardness of the sound shocked everyone who was in the room. He didn’t know why he had let his emotions consume him in that one moment but it had gained a lot of different responses from the table.

Theon rubbed a hand through his hair and regained his composure. So rarely he would lose it like that, especially given he was in front of people like Robb and Catelyn. 

A sweat was formed on his brow realising the implications of what he had said. One drop dripped down. 

Catelyn wanted to avoid this exact situation. In fighting within the group. This is exactly something that the Lannister’s could use against them if they wanted to. Or rather if they found out. This could be the beginning of the end if they didn’t get their mannish issues sorted out. If it was her running this war then they wouldn’t have a problem. Though it did intrigue her. Roose had never mentioned anything about a miller and no one seemed to ever talk about that with the Lord.

Roose was not shocked. Rather curious. How could a Greyjoy of Pyke know of Ramsay’s mother? The only people who knew of it was him and the miller’s wife. And one of them was dead. Robb was confused but Cat was angered he had lost his temper in such a way. It was improper of him and sure Ned had raised him better than that. At this vital stage they couldn’t afford to be losing allies.

Theon couldn’t see what he had done wrong until he had thoroughly thought out what he yelled. He rarely got angry and the last time he felt such raw emotions was when he faced his final stand against his uncle. He fought with valour but in the end it had all been for nothing.

Only Robb looked down and noticed how his hands looked like they could fall off with the amount of shaking they were doing. His missing fingers scratching at the wood and leaving a rather nasty mark in it. Robb tried to see if it was having any effect on him but surprisingly it didn’t seem to be doing anything to him.

Theon tried to explain his actions but Jeyne clasped a hand over his mouth and stopped anymore words leaving his chapped lips. It almost hurt while she was restraining him. Her small hand barely clamped over his mouth. He couldn't physically speak. No words left his mouth. He felt gagged. 

Jeyne tried to move her hand but the more he struggled the more she held him tighter. He knew why she was doing this but she really didn’t have too. All emotion was out of his system. 

When he stopped moving she slowly let him go and he was finally able to breathe.

Theon cleared his throat and reluctantly bowed before the Bolton, it had become second nature to him. “Forgive me Lord Bolton. Lady Catelyn. With the situation at hand you can understand I am under a great deal of pressure. I regret my temperament towards you.” Theon was using every ounce of will he had in his body to put on a genuine performance. If he was allowed too he would have struck him down the moment he had laid eyes on him

Roose didn’t know if the outburst was because of what he was saying was true or if he was genuinely trying to have a swing at the lord but whatever it was Roose wouldn’t let this matter lie for too long.

“You are forgiven. Your family is causing problems for your hosts. Yes, I will give your sister the exact same mercy I dealt the miller’s wife. She’ll live.” Theon could see that it was so obviously a threat on Yara’s life and only the two of them knew it while the two Stark’s remained oblivious to it. If Theon reacted badly to it then it would only cause more problems. He’d gladly murder the Bolton before he even looked in his sisters way. 

“Robb...What do you think is best?” Ultimately it wasn’t down to the Bolton or the Greyjoy. His fate lied with the Stark boy. Whether he go on his own 

Robb had to think it over carefully and weigh up his options. They had sent Theon before and that had gone terribly but sending the Bolton could prove very dangerous for Bran and Rickon and that’s who were mainly important. The boys who would take over the war if something were to happen to him. They were simply young boys who got caught in the crossfire. Yara surely would not have hurt the boys but then again she was unpredictable. 

She was a Lady who was known for her unladylike ways. Instead of needle and thread she chose the wheel of a ship and instead of singing songs about the gods her voice was used for war cries on the battlefield. Perhaps in different circumstances she could have been a great ally.

Had it not been for the past then everything would have worked out for the better.

Robb stood up tall as he came to a decision. Catelyn was praying that he had done the right thing and allowed Lord Bolton to send his bastard. At this moment in time he trusted them more than she did Theon. Though he had made a sacrifice for the Starks she couldn’t help but feel he was still trying to help his blood family.

Her family words came to her mind. 

Family Duty, Honour. 

She wasn’t about to be a hypocrite. She could understand where he was coming from. By the old gods and the new she would do anything for her own family if it would imply their safety. Theon was just trying to do the same but given the circumstances she was torn. He could see how the boy was suffering because of this. She wasn’t going to yell at him. It seemed that Robb was doing enough of that. 

“I want you to go Theon. It will work better if we can de-escalate the situation without the need for violence. Bran and Rickon will be safer that way.” Robb said. 

Catelyn didn’t even try to hide her sigh from him. She was disappointed in her son. She had such faith that he would have been smarter than this but she supposed that she couldn’t control him forever. And the way he spoke it made sense. Out of everything she wanted her boys to be safe. Even if it meant Yara getting away her boys must have been safe. 

“Mother he knows Bran and Rickon. They’ll feel safer with Theon. If they see the flayed man coming they may try to run. Running away from their captors could prove to be their demise. Please mother. Trust what I am doing.” Robb was trying to be sensible here. Theon hadn’t even considered that possibility but it worked out in his favour

Theon began to mumble his thanks quickly to him. They were coming out so quickly that Robb didn’t even realise that they were thanks until he had heard it a couple of times over.

His mother seemed to be very pleased with the revised version of the answer he had given them. Spoken like a true king who was finally using his diplomatic side instead of just causing a fight to justify the violence. He did make a good point. She’d been too quick to jump to a decision. 

She couldn’t forget her true goal in this. Her two baby boys were at the mercy of Yara and she could do anything that she wanted with them.

She thought of Rickon. Yara would have no problem in taking away his life. He was a young thing of six with no mother to help him or to hold him, whispering lullabies and blowing him kisses. Yara wasn’t a mother and according to rumours she never was going to be unless there came a time it was necessary. If she had mothered a child then maybe, just maybe, she would have been more inclined to let the boys go or at the very most not harm a single hair on their heads.

Her poor crippled boy Bran. A baby who she hadn’t seen since she had last been at Winterfell. She prayed that the wolves were protecting them from the Iron born. They were probably impaling his legs with spears for their entertainment. The Iron born weren’t uncivilised like the wildlings but they were cruel and ruthless which made them even worse.

“However if harm does befall you during your time there, Or Bran and Rickon, I will have no choice but to have our men kill Yara.” Robb couldn’t always be Theon’s friend given their situation and this was one of those times. He had to lay it down how it was. He would do everything in his power to make sure Yara was captured alive but if Theon or the boys were to be killed by her hand then the Greyjoy line would be the second house to perish by his hands, right after the Lannister’s.

In an ideal world this wouldn’t even be happening. None of this would be going on and they could all be happy together,

 

“But Robb-!” Theon was going to plead his case again only this time it would have been a lot stronger than it was before. He would have grovelled before him, gotten down onto his hands and knees if it was what was required of him. If he had to offer himself to anyone then he’d do it. He had failed Yara in his past life and he had learned from his mistakes. He wasn't going to repeat those mistakes.

Robb was close to slapping Theon across the face to knock some sense into him but as Robb raised his hand out of frustration Theon assumed he was actually going to hit him and moved himself away from Robb. It was common for Robb’s eyes to pick up on the more smaller movements however this time he was so consumed by his angered thoughts that he didn’t even notice how Theon was preparing to run away from the tent.

“No buts! Theon you almost died once at the hands of them. I need you alive. Please just stay safe.” Robb had yelled at Theon. He yelled because he cared so much. 

He had good reason to be so mad. He was doing this because he now saw him as one of his very own brothers. And his brother had been hurt at the hands of his own family. Blood would flow like the waters of Dorne. 

Theon was an idiot for thinking about trusting them. They’d only try it again and they wouldn’t make the same mistakes again. If Theon went there was a strong possibility he would really be killed. Then again he had only mentioned it being a couple of his father’s closest men. Nothing was mentioned about Yara.

Siblings had more love then parents but still it was a betrayal. Theon had betrayed his family for this.

This was something he wasn’t used to. Sure, Robb had been snarky and mean at some point but he had never actually full on yelled at his face before.

Theon had already gotten what he had wanted so he didn’t battle back this time. His heart was pounding against his chest. He didn’t think that Robb would hit him ever but he was taught then when people got angry with him they had a right to hit him. It should have been a pleasure for people to waste the time and effort to hurt such a pathetic thing as himself.

Theon hiccupped back whatever sob was about to escape him. Robb of course was regretting what he had just done but he wasn’t going to tell Theon that he was sorry. Not with the others around. He had said what was really on his mind. 

The hardest part would be convincing his sister to leave the keep she had worked so hard to get. She was headstrong and she wouldn’t budge for a traitor brother she probably wished dead. He needed to try everything that he could think off.

“Well, now that the Greyjoy’s have been decided about we should talk about the Lannisters. Robb we will go.” Catelyn spoke. “We are all tired. Greyjoy is stressed and as more time passes it isn’t getting any better. We will all speak tomorrow and get this sorted when we have clearer thoughts.” A wise decision for all of them. The Starks were sure that if Roose and Theon were in the same room any longer they would try to slice each other by their throats.

Everyone in the room was ready to fight and it would be best for them to have avoided this if at all possible. She didn’t want things to unravel.

“Agreed.”

Theon turned to leave but someone’s voice kept him there regrettably. Robb and his mother left the tent with Theon tagging along behind. Roose stopped him from leaving however.

“May I have a word with you Greyjoy?” A cold, elder voice spoke. 

All of them heard what Roose had said. Theon tilted his head to an angle. He could feel his eyes beginning to roll into his skull. He should have known that there’d be consequences for this. 

“Of course. Lord Bolton.” It was said through gritted teeth and red vision. His temper had cooled down from his outburst but if he wanted too he could have stabbed him through the chest with whatever he could find in the room. Having to call him lord tore away a piece of his soul.

Robb looked back to Theon as though to ask him if he was going to be okay with these new arrangements however Theon gave a small nod and pushed his back to shove him out. He didn’t want Robb to hear whatever the ensuing conversation was. It was unpredictable how the conversation would go and he didn’t want to accidentally get into trouble with the gods.

It was just him and Roose alone. There was enough light from the candles in the room to show that Roose was looking into his eyes. Theon just wanted to disappear right then and there. There was a fear brewing up inside him. 

“Only I knew of what happened that night under the tree with Ramsay’s mother. Not even Ramsay is aware yet. How could an Iron born lord of Pyke know of that?” Straight to the point. Just as Roose often liked it. A direct man got direct results. 

Theon was safe in what he was about to say. With Jeyne monitoring him he couldn’t afford to fuck it up. As long as he didn’t mention anything about the future he was safe enough. 

“I know a great deal about your family. About Ramsay.” Theon found himself incapable of lying to him. There was just something about his cold eyes that made him incapable of lying. Jeyne was tugging on his arm to stop him from doing anything he could end up regretting. 

He couldn’t believe he was having a confrontation with Roose, the father of his master. Jeyne was in the background carefully monitoring the situation.

“Like?” Roose motioned for him to continue. 

“His dogs. All named after the women he rapes, hunts and slaughters in the woods. He does this with the kennel master's daughter, Myranda. He’s a bastard. You were going to drown him when he was a babe but you saw your eyes in him. The Bolton eyes.” Theon rattled through and the more he spoke the more he saw Roose’s face turn from that of annoyance to confusion. It wasn’t an obvious confusion though, it was more like an intrigue.

“How do you know this? You should know none of this.” Roose finally decided to speak. It would have made more sense if they had grown up together but they had grown up in two totally different houses. He never knew such words had passed through the land about his bastard. He still remained calm.

“I know what I know.” Theon leaving it vague was annoying him internally more than he had hoped.

Theon could see why the spider enjoyed his work. Knowing things that others didn't was both a blessing and a curse. At this moment it was truly a blessing watching as Roose got more and more intrigued by him. He was sure that underneath it all he must have been mad. Roose was beginning to suspect that he was definitely involved with someone who possessed knowledge. 

“Are you going to tell our King?” If Robb were to doubt Roose’s loyalty their plan would have been spoiled for them.

Theon remained silent. By all the gods in the heavens, he wanted to. He couldn’t bear to let Roose think that he was going to get away with whatever it was he was going to get away with. For the sake of himself he had to restrain his true thoughts.

“Why not tell him I’m a monster?” He was provoking him. His tone made him so badly want to punch Lord Bolton in his teeth. He resisted as much as he could. Punching him would only give them a reason to distrust him. Roose had worked situations to his favour before and he could do it again here. 

“You have men we need.” Theon hated everything about this conversation with Roose. He hated how he had to pretend that he was happy with this arrangement.

“Is that all?” Roose had been observing up at this point. It had been razor sharp when Theon’s voice changed from that of honesty to a lie. He wasn't an idiot. He knew there had to be more to it then just Theon needed the men for Robb. Theon was holding a secret and everyone knew the saying regarding the flayed man and secrets. 

He didn’t answer him. 

Roose was smug and Theon just wanted to rip his lips off his face if it meant he was to stop. “You surprise me Greyjoy. I thought that you were just going to be some bratty ward. You are deceptive. Is there something you are perhaps hiding from our king?” In Roose’s mind he had come to the assumption that Theon was trying to tell him something that they couldn’t quite say in the open. Something along the lines of betraying the King in the North.

Strategically it just made the most sense. Greyjoys were hated all across the land. No one would want to partner with them, even the Targaryen’s who were exiled wouldn’t consider working with a bunch of backstabbing traitors. However, since Theon had remained loyal to Robb that gave him an advantage. If Tywin were to talk to them about a partnership they should have taken it if they were smart.

The thing was Tywin had already sent a Raven to Balon about joining his side and getting recognition from the crown but Balon had refused these terms. Apparently, he had said something along the lines of “I am the true king.” Both the men knew that old man was mad from the sea salt but he doubted that even he would be insane enough to think that he could rule the seven kingdoms let alone any of his two children.

Perhaps Tywin was smart enough to send a message to the only surviving son and manipulate him into taking over the Greyjoy armies to help them. He assumed Tywin would then help Theon usurp his father and make him the Lord of the Iron Islands. They would respect him for killing the king in the North.

“Shouldn’t you ask the same thing about yourself?” Theon responded. Theon walked out with the final word still resting on his lips. He knew he had won that battle of words.

Theon walked out. He hated the fact that he didn’t seem to have rattled him in the slightest. He had no idea how any one man could be like this. He couldn’t understand the man. He was so good at keeping himself cool in moments when he should have been burning with rage. He had known him for years yet he still remained a complete mystery to him. Perhaps he was just one of those people who never revealed what their true motives were.

Theon never knew what the man wanted. He enjoyed hurting people but what for? What was his purpose? He didn’t seem like he wanted to be a king and he didn’t seem like he wanted to usurp anyone besides being warden of the North.

A cold gust of wind made him clear his mind of all thoughts of the Bolton. He was going to have a big couple days of travelling and he needed his mind to be as sharp as an arrowhead, the same could be said for his tongue.

Out of all his body parts, Ramsay had always left the tongue intact. Thankfully. That might have been a bit harder to explain to the Starks.

Before he went back to his own tent he looked back to Roose’s. The tent flaps were closed over while Locked was waiting outside for his master to give him permission to go in. Locke hadn’t changed much at all. He still looked like he was about to call Theon a rat. Or a dog. Or a worm. Honestly just whatever low life animal he felt like naming him.

No matter. He had to get back to Jeyne and tell her all that had happened. He hadn’t wanted her to come here on account of how she might have reacted to the Lord of the Dreadfort. After all he was the one who initially caused the marriage between her and Ramsay. With the greasy bastard known as Littlefinger of the Fingers.

In Roose’s tent all was quiet. His breathing was fair and even. It was like his mind hadn’t quite registered their conversation. Not even Locke could hear him in there. He sat down on the chair and put his hands together in a contemplative manner.

After a couple moments of quiet contemplation Roose looked at the Iron Islands part of the map which had been coloured in a pale yellow. His emotionless eyes lingered on Theon’s birthplace for a moment.

On the table there was a blade. A simple blade but one that had served him well over the years. A good reliable blade that had never failed him once. Whether it was getting information out of an unwilling victim or whether it was simply for his own amusement it was always there.

His father told him something important. He showed him through an old folktale. It wasn’t the size of the blade or the type of blade it was the user who was wielding it. You could have a sword made from valerian steel but if too couldn’t swing it properly you wouldn’t kill the walker.  
A simple but effective tool of teaching.

He had tried multiple times to share this with his own son but unfortunately, Ramsay was a lost cause in this regard. Not only would he have multiple blades he never cared much for the family heirloom in favour of some of his more adventurous toys. Roose had once hoped that he would grow out of this phase but that day had yet still to come. Maybe once he had a wife and duties then maybe he’d put all of this ultra-violence nonsense aside in favour of more refined pursuits. 

Perhaps if he were to have a child of his own then maybe he would learn responsibility. Roose decided that after this bloody war was over Ramsay was to find a bride. Someone who wasn’t that damned Kennel masters daughter. A 4th born girl, just someone who he would be able to put a baby into. Someone who he would not want to toy with as he had done so in the past.

As much as he tried to clear his mind with other things his anger came back to Theon Greyjoy. There was clearly no way that he was going to get rid of his anger by just letting it go. He had to deal with it now. Since there were no scapegoats insight inanimate objects would have to suffice until he found a man or a traitor to use as a human sharpening stone.

His fingertips grazed the blades handle as if it were a lover. His long bony fingers curled around the handle and he took a quick moment of quietness before he begun to slash at the map. Hacking the iron islands to bits until it was in ruins. Shreds of faded paper fell to the floor. He didn’t stop until the Iron Islands was completely gone save for a couple of the specks around the side. He ended up destroying a bit of the Iron man’s bay in the process. He finally stabbed the knife in the board on which the map had been nailed onto.

When he had worked out his rage he took a deep breath and took down the map before anyone were to see it. Though many would agree getting rid of the Greyjoy would be a good thing Robb would come into the tent sometimes and that wouldn’t sit well with him. If Robb were to think he would hurt his best friend, there would be a distrust. Distrust had destroyed nations before and it would happen again if they weren’t careful.

Roose used the blade and pried the nails from the wood and rolled up the map. He gathered up the scraps on the ground and put them to one of the candles. It burnt up quickly and he was able to blow away the ash that remained. He wished that he could have done this all to the other lands. Anything that wasn’t his own. He wanted it all. He wouldn’t have to abide by Cersei or any king who were to rule the Seven Kingdoms.

The map was gone and so was his state of mind about the whole situation.

“Locke, come in here.” Roose yelled abruptly. He assumed that Locke must have come back when he heard the commotion and was simply saving him the embarrassment of interrupting his talk with the Greyjoy.

“Send for my bastard to come here at once. I have a task for him.” Roose would send Ramsay to the north but after he was done there he would make him come back before they went back to the Dreadfort.

The greasy man came into the hut and slicked back his hair. He was clearly been on horseback for a while with no stops for washing.

“Are we having a hunt?” The eagerness in his voice was increased. That was something the Lord liked about his man. He was always ready for a fight but he was smart enough to know which fights to pick and which ones to stay away from.

“Of sorts.” Roose looked at the doors of the tent from where Theon had left the both of them. He grabbed a blade and looked at the line work. He felt a smile crawl upon his wrinkled face as he thought about what he could do.

“What is it we’re hunting might I ask? A Lion? A wolf?” Locke asked his lips being wetted in anticipation.

“A Kraken.”

\-----------------------------------

Lord Baelish arrived back in camp. He’d heard terrible things happening and he’d wanted to be close to the information that he needed. It hadn’t been planned but he’d supposed that a small trip wouldn’t hurt as long as he returned within a week. He hoped that King’s Landing wouldn’t fall apart without him. 

No better place to be with the woman he loved. 

In Lady Catelyn’s tent she and Lord Baelish were talking. Not talking. Rather having a loud verbal conversation. Almost yelling. 

“What in the hells did you do Petyr?!” She cried into his ear. 

Their conversation was about Theon. 

More so rather about the torture put onto him. Catelyn had trouble sleeping after seeing him. She often needed a remedy to help her nod off. 

She would doubt Balon doing this. A father couldn’t do that to his child. No matter how much he insisted that Balon did it something just felt wrong about the whole thing and if anyone knew what really happened it would be Baelish. She trusted Theon’s word but she feared that he may have been holding back for someone or something. After the confrontation with Roose it made her think that perhaps it was closer to home. 

After all there was an X mark carved into his arm and why would Iron Born do that? And the Bolton’s were known for their torture of their enemies. She wouldn’t have even considered Roose as a player in this game but after the evenings shocking events something simply didn’t sit right with her. 

She knew he’d do something about it or at the very least have some information. It was the way that Baelish worked. He’d find way to work things to his advantage. 

“What would Balon get out of castrating his only living son? What would I have gotten out of torture. He’s a simple boy. Not important.” Baelish said. Catelyn would have used her skinny hands to wring him by his throat but she didn’t much care for the feeling of slime. 

“I can tell you that Theon chose Robb over Balon. I have no idea how those scars on his body appeared. He wasn’t meant to have scars. I think the boy is being honest.” Petyr told her. 

“What do you mean?” 

“There was a miscommunication on my side of things. I was just placing a back up protection in place incase things went south but it went askew. My humblest apologies Lady Catelyn.” Baelish has only asked that he be ended quickly and professionally. 

When he’d heard of Theon’s return he’d been disappointed that the assassin had failed but when he’d heard of torture it made the situation even more muddled. Petyr of course deduced the fact that the Bolton’s were involved but he came to the assumption that it was because he was the son of the enemy. 

“Why would you do that? He was an ally?”

“I didn’t trust Balon. The assassin misheard me. I wanted to say kill him if he agrees with his father. I never would have done it at all. It was simply a precaution. The assassin and the torture were seperate I came to learn.” He lied. 

Catelyn was convinced. She knew she couldn’t trust Baelish but she was so tired that she just took his word for it. Besides he was capable of bad things but killing a member of their own was beyond her. He’d be on their side as long as she was involved within the game. 

Yet though she had been given one answer it still didn’t explain the scars. 

“Do you think the Bolton’s did it? The torture.” She asked in a quiet voice. Baelish stroked his tiny mustache while thinking about it. 

“No. It wasn’t the work of Roose or his bastard son. Ex workers of house Bolton who wanted to prove their worth. The foolish boy is likely trying to keep the peace.” This wasn’t true but it was the best explanation that he had. 

He had a good point. She had probably been panicking when she was thinking about Roose. Roose was a honourable of man. Just because his house was that of a flayed man didn’t mean that he himself was a monster. It was just two men who happened to hate each other. All too common a problem in Westeros. 

Catelyn was trying to keep everything together but it was beginning to unravel. There were things she didn’t know and that scared her. 

“Get out. I need time to calm down. Perhaps this one time you’ll listen to me.” She’d had enough of her childhood friend for one afternoon and she needed peace and quiet for one night. All these things wracking around in her brain were taking a toll on her. 

He tried to reason with her but she only yelled again louder, so loud in fact that the guard outside the tent came in to see if everything was in order. Upon seeing the other man in the room Baelish knew it was time to make his leave. 

Baelish’s original plan had been simple. Have Theon killed and then having witnesses believe that Balon had orchestrated the attack. Robb would be so enraged that he would send reinforcements to attack pyke. They would easily take Pyke and have the boats that they needed. 

Once they had the boats depending on how the battles would sway he would manipulate how to get there. 

If Robb would win he would be able to be with Catelyn through all the help he gave her son but if Joffrey won then he would keep the mother and son safe. Catelyn would be so grateful towards him that she would fall for him. Even if she didn’t return the feelings she would marry him as a political move. He could provide protection that not even Tywin would be able to find them. 

Their next move after that would be stealing the Vale from Lysa. It made sense seeing as Lysa was Catelyn’s sister. Lysa would simply take an accident and then they’d have it in their hands. They would become Robin’s guardians and all would be well. He’d have everything. The wife he always wanted. A son he could train to be just like him. 

Sadly for this story Baelish would disappear back to the capital for now and he would live out for another while good men died. 

And while the love of his life was to perish at the hands of the Freys


	9. Winterfell: Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theon does his best to convince his sister to leave his home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter! For once! The second part will be soon after. Spilt into two because honestly, it was like two separate chapters tbh. Hope y'all don't mind! Enjoy as always!

Theon and his riders were overlooking Winterfell.

It had been snowing again as the grass was just lightly dusted with the white snow. Theon had forgotten how grand it had looked before it had been burned to a crisp. The towers were still standing tall. Theon was still breathless every time he saw it. Winter hadn’t come yet but it was evident that it would be coming soon enough. 

He would have continued to bask but his men were riding forwards without him so he’d best get going. As they drew closer he could already see how the Greyjoy banners had been placed in the position of the Stark ones. Theon would make it his personal mission to bring one down before he left. If Winterfell was going to be burned it was going out with at least some dignity. 

Jeyne looked upon the other men and she kept her distance from them. They were brutish in size and stance. Theon was just thankful that their personalities were a lot different from their looks. They could have been vengeful against him for what his sister had done but it seemed that they were able to understand rather well how complex his situation was. They didn’t have to like or accept it but at least they weren’t trying to murder him when he had his back turned on them. 

After a couple of conversations he had learned several things about them. Marlon was a soldier originally from Whitehill who was serving the Stark army while his wife was at their home in the woods looking after their soon to be born son or daughter. Another man was named Alran Stone. A Vale bastard who had no interest in the politics of the land and only wanted to get back home to his livestock. Apparently he was saving up for Volantis where he could live out his days as a humble farmer and maybe get some fancy looking birds to take care off as well. 

All these men having something to look forward to whereas Theon only had one thing to look forward too and that was his untimely demise. 

Theon wouldn’t have even considered talking to these people before but him doing so now made a more personal connection with them. He could see their guards being lowered and this would end up being better for everyone involved. Even their faces showed how content they were that a high born seemed to actually take an interest in their lives for once. 

Theon was beginning to see a pattern emerging. The high borns didn’t care for the lives of the low and low born thought they could live without the so-called tyranny of the high borns. 

Theon wasn’t sure where he considered himself on the spectrum. On one hand, he had been a son of Balon Greyjoy but then he was made into a lowborn by one Ramsay Bolton and he hadn’t really considered his position since. Sure he would let Yara be the Queen but would he be a lord? 

Why he was thinking so hard about this was a mystery to him. It’s not like he would ever live to see the day he would get a title or a place. 

Theon rode into Winterfell as if he was the most hated man on the continent of Westeros. The ironborn must have heard what had happened between him and his family and knew what a traitor he had been. 

Eyes watched him as he rode in with several Stark men behind him. Yara had been standing in the middle of the court yard. The men circled around her and Theon was the one to stop right in front of her. The horns having announced his arrival moments before he had arrived. His cobalt coloured horse seeming to know where to stop exactly. Yara was glaring at him while Theon was beginning to glare back at her. Every man was ready for a brawl between the two. Brother vs Sister.

He glared to keep up his Pro Stark facade. 

Theon dropped down from his horse and he walked up to her. His walk had been practiced many times in the mirror and every man was now convinced he was in control. Even Theon knew himself that was in power of what was to happen here. It was an unusual feeling to say the least but it wasn’t by any means bad. 

“Yara. Good to see you.” He said bringing the horse over to a man who looked like he ran the stables. 

The residents of Winterfell seemed grateful that they finally had a familiar face for them to rely on. They took into consideration that they were siblings but they also realized that Theon was still on their side. 

“Fucker.” She said. There wasn’t much room for much more passive aggressive tones in her voice. The northern wind was having an effect on her and the others it was clear. Her nose was red but her face managed to hide it well, and she was wearing more layers then she had ever had before. Head to toe in fur she had stolen from Ned’s chambers. If Catelyn was here she surely would have decked Yara hard enough to break her teeth and then some. 

Her hands were beginning to flake in the cold and they were cracking, a couple of blood drops starting to clot. 

The men snickered at her come back. Theon didn’t have a good rebuttal but if he were to say something it would be along the lines of whatever outfit she was wearing. Wolf fur wasn’t her style however. She looked better in the Kraken armour she wore with such pride on her face. The fur left her body looking shapeless and it muffled the curves she had worked so hard to get. 

Fur looked well on Theon but that was only because he was a twig of a human and him being cloaked in fur made his body seem that of a normal man. Yara could see how thin he had gotten in such a small matter of time. It was a minor cause for concern but she could ask him about it later on.

“I expected as much.” Theon said. This was clearly the warmest welcome he was going to get here so he decided that there was no point lingering on it. He hadn’t been expecting a warm welcome but he had at least wanted something a little more dignified. It was no matter however. He wasn’t the person who was important here. 

He fiddled with his fingers before putting one hand under his chin. 

“We need to talk Yara.”

“That we do brother.” Yara gave a nod to her men to leave them on their own. Yara’s gut feeling was Theon would never do anything to hurt her so she guessed she could trust that feeling now. Theon was thinking the exact same thing. This was meant to be a peaceful talk after all. 

Thus they began to walk and Theon could already see Winterfell begin to go into decay. There were more Ironborn soldiers stationed around every corner and the sickness was spreading. Men with poxes marking their faces and the common folk looking like they were on the brink of death. The men and women had been butchered only keeping the ones they needed alive. It was moat Cailin all over again. 

Theon wanted to ask her so many things about what she had done, how she had captured Winterfell and how she was keeping it, then again it seemed foolish to ask seeing as he already had the answer. She was Yara. She was an unstoppable force who always was able to get what she wanted. 

Her posture said it all. Standing tall she was a shining star. Yara was trying to guide him to the room in which she wanted to talk but he pulled his body away at every opportunity. 

She had a smirk on her face as she walked him under the arch where two boys hung against the wall. Theon hadn’t seen it coming so when Yara stopped walking Theon stopped in his place. His eyes widened in horror as he saw the sight before him. 

Their bodies were burnt to a crisp. Their young faces unrecognisable from the charring. One of their arms was gone while the other remained intact. They were both positioned in front of the Stark banners. It was undeniable to the eye that it should have been them. The smell was the worst. Like a sewer that hadn't been cleaned up for several weeks. 

The revolt was clearly evident on his face and Yara wouldn’t be in the least bit shocked if Theon threw up right now on the cold stone ground. Theon simply pressed back his stomach with his right arm, keeping his queasiness at bay for the meantime. Yara doubted she had given any mercy to the boys as she watched the men butcher them and burn them alive on a pile of dry leaves and twig branches. 

Theon had to convince himself he hadn’t done it this time but it didn’t excuse the fact that he had done this before. This was in essence his fault the first time around. It sickened him how happy Yara looked at the notion that she had killed the two supposed little lords of Winterfell. Theon knew instantly that it wasn’t Bran or Rickon. That in fact it was the two farmers boys. 

The two boys he had killed the first time around. He couldn’t do it. 

“You could have buried them at least. This is mindless violence.”

Yara simply laughed off this notion and brought him forwards. He was understandably hesitant to do this. He stole his hands away from Yara and walked on his own terms. Her brother was being as moody as he seemed to always be. Who knew he would grow up so grumpy? Then again it could have had something to do with the death of his non blood brothers. 

The room where Yara had taken him was the room where he had talked with Luwin during his own invasion of Winterfell. 

“Where’s the Maester?” A part of him needed to know he was okay. 

“The old man. He’s weeping in the crypts for the fallen sons. We murdered Bran and Rickon!” Yara was speaking as if she had just won a major battle above a pile of vanquished foes. They were two boys. Two innocent boys who didn’t deserve any of this to be happening to them. 

“They’re two farm boys.” He was as quiet as a mouse. Theon guessed that she was using the same trick that he had used. He had no problem calling her out in this way. It was murder but this time he was on the outside looking in. He must have been already mad in the head for thinking that killing two innocent boys was going to help him keep a castle. 

Yara seemed to be in disbelief for a moment but she decided that she wanted to stick to her lies for as long as she was possible to. 

“No, they’re Bran and Rickon. You can’t tell because they're burnt.” Her harsher repetition only confirmed her suspicions about it. She had only increased her anger by a little bit but that’s all Theon needed to know that she was being threatened with the truth.

“It’s two farm boys.” He repeated again calmer than he had before. He had meant it for real this time. 

Yara knew that he knew. 

“How did you…” Yara was rumbled so there was no point in persisting in what they both knew wasn’t true. It was only her and her three most trusted men who knew about the plot. 

“Gut feeling,” he said.

Yara could see the boys from the room and from a distance many people would assume it was the young lords of Winterfell. Many people had assumed it. Even upon close inspection not even the man who had delivered them into the world had the faintest recognition of them. Many people who walked by chose to ignore them however Yara did come to notice a few of the elderly women who would stop and pray for the murdered boys. As if their prayers would bring them back. 

Theon was nearly sick but then he reminded himself that it wasn't him who had burned them this time. Yara closed over the window so Theon wouldn’t be forced to stare at it for the entire conversation. if he asked her why she did it she would probably tell him that she wanted him to focus on the task at hand though she did have another motivation. 

She wasn't like Balon. 

These had been boys that her brother had grown up with. he had most likely seen them on the day of their birth, that was a special bond.

Yara could remember the day that Theon was born to mother. he hadn’t stopped crying since he came out yet it was only when she looked at her baby brother that he did cease his crying. no doubt Theon had a similar relationship to bran and Rickon. it would be unkind to force them to stare at their corpses. She had paraded them to Theon as a performance for the men. Right now with no eyes on them she could stop the act. 

Theon dropped to his knees and looked up to Yara with eyes that begged her. He would kneel before his queen whenever he was making his request. Yara liked to have control and if she believed she had control then perhaps she may listen to him quicker. 

"Yara please! I'm begging you to leave. Go back home and stay there." His hands grabbed her just at the shoulder part of her armour plates and she yanked him away. Her eyes scanned him before she decided that she would not question his rash attitude. 

His voice was spilling with urgency. He knew that it was less likely that her men turn on her so it would be someone else left to become the miserable creature known as Reek but he still didn't like the idea of her being anywhere in the North. It was like Ramsay would be able to sniff him out and find him here. 

Yara but down her chalice and came up to her baby brother, placing a hand on his chest ever so lightly, unbeknownst to her right above his fatal wound. 

She picked up another cup and directed it towards Theon. He rejected the drink but she poured it anyway. Might save herself some trouble in pouring her own cup anyway. 

What was leading up to be a tender moment between siblings was harshly interrupted when she made her right hand into a fist and sent it hurtling quickly towards his stomach. He may have been family but that wouldn't stop her from dealing with someone if she thought they were being weak.

"You betrayed our family! For them! You do not get to command me about, Brother." She couldn't forget the main reason she was angry with him.

Yara had left him crumpled on the floor in pain. Once the small amount of bile came out from his throat he came to the realization that his begging approach wasn't going to work. If he was going to get through to Yara he had to approach her in a way she would listen. Acting strong should do the trick. It tasted like sick and Theon would need some good wine to get rid of the taste.

Violence was the only language she knew. 

Yara could understand his motivations for doing this but she just wished he would change his morals and join them once again. Their ties with their family were now broken and there was no doubt Theon would ever be able to return to the Iron Islands again but the family was what was important. Keeping him safe too. 

Theon rose from the floor with a look she had never seen before.

Only one thing would motivate him enough to yell. 

"Yara for fuck's sake the Boltons are coming!" Theon knew probably everyone in Winterfell could hear them. Ramsay truly was on his way and every second that Theon was here it meant that the Bolton came closer to finding him and though Theon had made a promise to Jeyne that he wouldn’t expose himself on purpose. The word being ‘On purpose’. 

"That Bolton?" Yara asked, not fully understanding what made such concern. Rarely in Pyke did people hear such tell of Northern houses unless you were a lord or lady yourself. Like Yara. She had done her reading on the enemy and she knew a little about the bastard Bolton. Only that he had a desire for flesh. Both physically and sexually. 

It did disturb her a little bit but then again she realised her people did varying degrees of the same thing so she supposed he was still a mortal man. 

"Yes that Bolton bastard. He has his banner for a reason. The flayed man." It wasn’t Ramsay’s banner. It was the banner that belonged to his father and his grandfather and everyone before him. He was just a snow. A worthless half-blood. Snow. The name that enraged him. 

Ramsay was just a snow and Theon had to remind himself of that. 

Yara didn't worry about others as she had a plan. Hold Winterfell until her backup arrived but in the meantime have her soldiers leave one by one in case their little invasion did not work out.

"Where's your balls brother?" Sarcasm high in her voice. 

Theon snapped. Yara didn’t get to do this. She had to be better than the others. He completely forgot about how this Yara has not received any packages from the Dreadfort. 

"Very funny. Anymore castration jokes you'd like to make? I’ve heard em all!" His arms were folded and he left off a small huff. His mood was changing. He hated the jokes but when he made them himself he was at ease with it. It had the opposite effect on Yara. 

His sister had her back to him as she was carefully pouring herself another drink of the shitty northern wine to cope with stress. Her whole body had stopped moving, the cup began to overflow with the red liquid, she put everything down on the table and flicked her wrists dry. Her movements slow but calculated. 

"What do you mean 'castration’?" He knew he was fucked because she had not yelled it. She had simply asked him in a quiet voice but it was abundantly clear that inside her head she was about to murder the next non-blood related person she would lay her eyes on. Her cup had been set on the table so gently that even a fly’s wings could be heard. 

"Nothing" He shrugged it off as quickly as he had mentioned it but the words had already fallen on Yara’s ears and nothing could take it away. 

"Theon! What in the seven hells do you mean?!" Theon didn’t get to weasel himself out of his one. She grabbed him by the northern cloak and threw him against the wall with her brawn which Theon didn’t expect her to posses. Then again he wasn’t exactly the heaviest man in the world.

In her fit of rage she was going to reach down and find out for herself but when the smallest of whimpered escaped his lips she paused. She let him go when he soon after whispered ‘don’t’ in the most tortured voice she had ever heard. This was her baby brother who had been brutalised by the enemy and she was going to remind him of his trauma. 

Yara dragged herself back to her seat and sat down to mull over what she had just done. A hand ran through her hair and she parted it. It was true. He really was castrated. The enemy shouldn’t have been able get away with this and live.

"Fine…Fathers men." Theon stuck with the lie

This only seemed to infuriate his sister even further. Her forehead became creased with anger. Theon sucked in a breath as he awaited her response. 

"Fathers men are my men too and they did not do this. Who are you protecting?" She knew each of their faces. Those were men who had families and who knew that they didn’t do anything without telling her first. Yara was now asking him but it seemed more like a command. The truth was fragile and she was about to break it. 

"Protecting?" Theon asked again to buy himself more time to come up with a lie. 

"Aye. You stink of terror." Yara paused. “Did Robb Starks men do this?”

If it had been the Starks who had done this then Yara was going to murder everyone who even affiliated themselves with the name Stark. No one hurt her baby brother and would live to tell the tale. Those who did manage to live would be an example to others. Theon may have betrayed her but he was still her blood relation and nothing would change that. She was the only brother she had left and she would never become an only child. 

She came too close before. 

If it did turn out the Starks were abusing him then it would explain his behaviour at their home. He was so afraid of them he was only trying to save them from their cruel natures. Yara wasn’t going to budge on this so he needed to improvise and do it quickly. 

“They….They needed information. Ramsay thought I was a spy for father. Robb had nothing to do with this. It was Ramsay and Ramsay alone.” He feared the stutter would give him away but it only seemed to support his lie even further. Well half-lie. 

Yara raised her arm to ask but put it down when she began to think about the implications of what had happened even further. It made no sense whatsoever 

"Seven Hells. He did that to you despite him being a bastard?”

Theon laughed. It was so often he forgot that Ramsay was a bastard because he had been forced to worship him so highly. "He's Ramsay. He doesn't care if he lives or dies.” It was true. Only one person knew Ramsay Bolton like no other and that was Theon. He shared his most intimate dark secrets with him. He knew this because he told of the story of his conception by way of Roose and the wife under the tree. 

Yara grew disturbed by the utter lack of any feeling in his voice. Almost as if he had practised this routine over and over in his head before. The whole thing felt wrong. 

“He’s still alive?”

If this had been the iron islands they wouldn’t have had the honour of having a water-based death. They’d be bleed out on the beach and then have their body left to decompose on the sand. The tide only just missing it. They could be so close to the sea but never quite reaching it. The only death suitable for this Ramsay Bolton. 

She blinked in surprise trying to process all of this information. It was a rule of thumb all over the land was that when a lower born even dared to touch a high born then their hands were to be removed as a part of repayment. To hear he was living was a shock and to learn that Robb Stark was such a coward for refusing to execute him.

A horn sound went off in the distance and the both of them turned to the window. With a frustrated sign Yara slammed the shutter over in the hopes that it would dampen the noise but though it was less it still persisted. 

Theon shuddered while his sister remained upright. 

“He’s here…” Theon said in a voice that was barely a whisper.

In the morning a man in muddied armour had came to the gates to tell them that Bolton men were approaching and were to surround in a group around the Castle.The note had been written in blood with a lovely finger attached to the note. Yara had been so enraged that she crumpled the note into a ball throwing it onto the fire and watching it crackle and burn. Yara had thought them but a minor threat to her but now she was seeing what they were capable off she was no longer underestimating them. 

She was losing her control but she would never let it show. Weakness was seen for what it was. The slightest of weaknesses would mean a knife to the heart. Better to die with honour than live as a coward. 

Theon should have known Roose would have Ramsay go around the back in advanced to screw him over. 

It was at this moment in time she came to the realization. It was Bolton men who were residing right outside of her door. If they did that to a lord on their side she was beginning to panic thinking about what they were capable of doing to the enemy. She had heard the tales but didn't take them seriously. For once in her life she had been just too over confident.

“What would happen to me if I stay?” Her eyes went back to him with no anger but now a fear that she hadn't known before. A fear that left a bottomless feeling in her stomach. She wasn't one for taking advice as she was often capable of predicting the situation but now that she had been panicked she needed as much advice as she could. 

Theon wanted to tell her she would be fine. That Ramsay would simply keep her alive in a dungeon and keep her as a political prisoner but he couldn't lie to her like this. The reality would be so much worse for her. He didn’t think that she would be the one too get captured by Ramsay but still she would suffer for losing the castle. One way or another. 

"It will be a mercy if he kills you. You're a woman so he won't do that. He'll name a dog after you." He told her. Yara would survive what he had but it would have changed her. He didn't know how it would change her but it would. Maybe she’d last a little bit longer. 

It was an odd thing to mention. 

"That doesn't sound so bad." Yara was so innocent in this regard. Theon’s long sigh told her there was more to it then just dogs. She almost didn't want to know more.

Thus he began the long explanation of what would happen to his sister. The only thing he didn’t want was to think about what would happen to her. 

“The dogs get their names when Ramsay chases girls though the woods and has his dogs maul them living. He won't want you dead because you're too valued in his eyes. He won't mind putting a bastard in you either." His eyes glanced down to her flat stomach. There was no doubt that Ramsay would try and claim her. 

Ramsay didn’t care much for gender in terms of who he was going to fuck. If his victim screamed and bled red then he would set his predatory eyes on it and refuse to lose contact. Yara’s eyes shot down to her abdomen as well and then back up to her brother quickly, she didn’t want to think about that reality. The thought about some slimy lowborn doing that to her made her shiver. It offended her. 

Yara knew most men were monsters when it came to women and treating them well but the way Theon’s voice quivered let her know that Ramsay must have been worse then all of them combined. Also, it implied that Theon was aware of what he did and Yara would rather not question how he knew. Whether it be from first-hand experience or just word of mouth she was terrified for him. 

"I see…" she pulled over a chair and began the contemplation of her current situation. She needed more wine for the situation. Something strong. 

Her shortened fingernails tapped the table as she thought. It was a lot to consider. Escape and be a coward or stay and be captured. She was Iron born she had to go with the latter option. Theon was Iron born too and staying hadn’t worked well for him.

She came to a decision moments later. While she didn’t want to leave the castle seeing how Theon reacted to this was frightening even for her. They all knew they couldn't keep Winterfell for much longer the way that things were going. It was simply impossible. 

"I'll leave. I'll say to my men father has taken ill health. One of my men will take over. I lied before. Besides if Ramsay is as bad as you say no one will be alive to tell anyone otherwise." She said with an exasperated tone. 

She was a sea captain who had never lost any battles. her first land battle and she had already failed. It would take a take a leader to keep the Castle but it would take an even stronger leader to put the safety of her people above glory and honour.

“We can’t keep the castle for much longer anyway. My men won’t be able to get here in time.” 

Theon finally let a deep breath of relief escape his lips and he sunk down onto a chest that acted as a support for him. Yara looked at him sympathetically. So it was true he was staying with the enemy out of fear. Before she had been so closed minded about all of this stuff. Now she was finally able to see the full extent of the picture. 

If this was the way that things were to be it would most likely mean they'd never see each other again. It wouldn't be like on the dock when they knew there was a chance of seeing each other again. This time it would be final.

Before he left she needed to know certain things about him.

"Why are you on his side if you know what he's capable of?" Which was the main thing she wanted to ask. As many times as she pondered it with her advisors they didn't know what to make of it. Most assumed he was just a fool trying to keep the peace.

"Because he supports Robb. And I don't want to lose Robb's trust ever again."

"There was a time when you lost it?"

"Long ago. It doesn't matter now but the time I did. I never forgot it.”

“I think that you’re mad baby brother but I will respect your wishes. I hope you know what you’re doing. Robb’s chances are good. He’ll thank you for all the shit he’s put you through.” A sisters final words of advice. Her brother was going to die at the hands of the enemy. she got a gut feeling but it seemed there was nothing that could be done about it. or was there?

“You could come with me Theon,” Yara said hopefully. A spark of inspiration coming to her like a bolt of lightning. Theon gave her a look which said it wouldn't be able to work but she persisted.

“I’ll say I kidnapped you. I’ll take you back but we can keep you safe until the war is over. Father will not have to know. They weren’t afraid to torture you once so what makes you think they won’t do it again? I could bring you to mother. You could finally see her after all these years. you could recover with her.” A good point had been raised but Theon knew he was in good hands. He could handle himself after all. He’d grown up with a proper swordsman education. 

“Robb is keeping me safe.” He told her. as much as the idea appealed to him he couldn’t. 

Yara scoffed at that notion. He was tortured and now he was saying how Robb had kept him safe? She would have killed any man who even joked about doing that to him. 

“Aye and he’s done such a good job so far.” Her eyes rolled sarcastically.

“He has.” Theon shot back at her with aggression. His body was shaking. 

“If you say so.” It was obvious what she meant by that. Both sipped at their drinks and Theon downed his drink down his throat while Yara savoured hers. The conversation had gone very differently than both had planned. Yara had wanted to persuade him. Theon had wanted to persuade her. In the end they had gotten nowhere. 

As she drank something was itching in the back of Yara’s mind. On one hand, she could see that he was scared but she needed to know how much she needed to be scared. What the enemy would do to a man they would do twenty times worse to a woman.

“How were you tortured? Other than the obvious one. And the downstairs mutilation.” There was more he was hiding. Even as a child he was horrible at hiding things. His secrets were known by all. Even how when he was a boy of seven he still slept with the squid toy that his mother made for him the week before he had been born. He would look down to his feet and deny all accusations. He was doing the exact same things now. 

She had to get a closer look to get a better idea of what had happened to him. 

“Do you want to see?” Seep down in his gut he got a feeling, feeling that he had to convince her once and for all to leave 

Yara should have said no. She should have told him enough was enough but strangely enough, her morbid curiosity got the better of her. 

He was opposed to showing her. she had no need to see what had happened to him but as long as they were sharing they might as well. She wouldn't believe his word otherwise. 

Theon took off his glove and she nearly threw up whatever wine she had been drinking. She wiped away some of the wine that had escaped her mouth and she swallowed the rest in a nervous gulp. It was beyond horrifying to look at what remained. Yara had seen tortured bodies before but this made her physically ill.

Next, he took off his tunic and only his tunic.

He slowly removed his sleeves from his shoulders and dropped it onto the stone floor. 

His torso was covered in scars but when she thought that the worst was over that was when he turned around to show her where the worst of it was. The more slowly he turned the more that was revealed to her.

Yara cried out in horror when she saw what was done with his back. Yara had never turned away in horror before. She had been with the maester when he plucked the splinters from her Mothers feet, she had seen her men taking teeth from the enemies of people who tried to steal her ships. Not even the ironborn would have considered this a suitable torture. 

“Theon this isn’t normal torture. This is barbaric There’s no other words...Its...And he’s right outside the doors.” The disgust resonated in her eyes. A part of her was about to touch the flesh but the better part of her mind was just stopping her from doing so. Discolouration was evident but it was the multitude of colours that was making her feel ill. It was rancid to look at. Puss had leaked out of it a short while back so it stank to the deepest pits of hell. She wouldn’t cry but she was visibly upset by this. 

This is what truly set her mind in stone before she had just been lying to Theon about leaving so that she could mull over the options but now she could see what staying here would truly mean. it terrified her and that wasn't even the worst part. The worst part was she knew she would have to leave men behind, good men she had grown to know and appreciate. They would have to face the Wrath the Bolton.

He focused on his fingers. Theon had noticed how much it had changed over the months but sickly white seemed to be the main colour it would stick with. However if it was a mild day then black seemed to creep in just at the stub where the knife had been inserted in his pinky finger. The maesters hadn’t gotten around to taking it off yet. He knew he’d probably lose it when he got back to Robb’s camp. He was wishing that maybe Jeyne hadn’t remade his finger scars. 

 

“You’re not safe.” It was all Yara could say. He may have chosen the Starks over them but she was starting to see why. He probably didn’t have a choice in the matter. He could say he was safe over and over and even believe it himself but this was the reality. no amount of wine would have been able to take the image from her head.

“I know.” Agreeing would get her to stop. 

A man came to the door. He stayed and observed the two siblings before making themselves known. Theon could feel the body in the room. He called him out without staring at him. He too saw the wounds that were residing on his whole body. 

“ I think that I’ve overstayed my welcome. You’re men look like they’re about to murder me.” Theon said putting back on his shirt while Yara sat in complete shock. 

 

Yara was in such a state of shock that she didn’t know where she would be able to begin with this. In her mind the images of his back was still vibrant in her mind. He gave her one last look before leaving the room. He approached the riders he had come to Winterfell with. They had hoped for a happier resolve But when they saw his face they lost most of the hope.

“We’re leaving.” He said to the riders.

“What’s happening?”

“Yara’s going to keep the castle. I couldn’t convince her. It's up to the Bolton's now”

“I’ll get the horses sorted. You tried. Your sister is a murderer anyway. We should get back. We’ve been getting looks.” Another man chipped in. 

The horses were brought out and they were ready to leave. 

He looked back at Winterfell one last time before they rode off. It would be the last time he see it alive before it erupted into flames. 

Nothing would remain.   
-


	10. War Camp: Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theon returns but with news of the boy's supposed deaths he isn't welcomed warmly. Especially from Lady Catelyn. Theon tells her the truth to keep her happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh goodness. I'm so sorry I meant to get this out sooner. Trying to sort University stuff has been super stressful and I've been pretty much panicking all week. I'm still gonna get updates out tho so don't worry. There'll be the new exciting chapter tomorrow night hopefully.

He returned to the camp without harm which made a change. Though they weren't harming him he could see on their faces that they wanted to. People scowled at Theon as he entered the camp, evidently, they had heard of what Yara had done. Theon should have anticipated this. Why hadn’t he anticipated this? He thought that he would be simply able to go back.   

He walked into the tent where he knew that Catelyn and Robb would be. 

“You’ve returned,” Robb said looking to him. 

Robb looked like he hadn’t slept for days. Catelyn was much worse for wear. Her dress wasn't washed and her hair remained uncombed. It looked like a wire brush. She had been waiting for Theon to return even if he did. They had received word from Winterfell that Yara had already burned the boys alive. It had to be a trick by the enemy it just had to be. 

“What news of Bran and Rickon? We got word they’d been killed. Please tell me the note of the raven lied?” Catelyn sounded like a desperate woman. It was evident that since he left Ramsay must have made quick work of burning Winterfell to the ground. Robb of course knew how fucking awful the situation was for them. His brothers had just been killed by his sister. He knew that by the time the ravens had altered them he wouldn’t have made it back to Winterfell in time. He couldn't have done anything to prevent this from happening.   

Theon looked to Jeyne. Jeyne could tell by the woman body language that she was upset with what was happening. If she could have talked her down she would have happily tried. She knew the pain of losing a loved one all too well. It was a deep aching within the chest that never truly got better after the initial blow. All she could do was learn to live with it.   

“She has their bodies burned over Winterfell. She had done it the morning before I arrived. I was a couple of hours too late.” He said with regret in his voice. Catelyn let out a garish cry while Robb held his breath. He had just lost both of his baby brother's and the sibling of the woman responsible was giving him the news. Their worst fears had been confirmed. Robb had taken the news better then Catelyn had. Robb’s heart had already been broken enough times that he was used to the pain.  

Her babies were dead. Two of her youngest boys were dead on the walls of their ancestral home. She held her prayer wheel tight and began to sob into the item. Robb held Catelyn

“I’m sorry.” Theon tried to tell Robb. It didn't help to ease his burden however. Robb for once had bags underneath his eyes. He was a young man but he looked older thanks to the stress. Men all around the camp were calling for Theon’s head. His sisters had murdered the two princes of Winterfell and now he’d returned without a scratch. Robb wouldn’t give into their demands however.  

“Where is she?” 

“She’s left back for the islands. Father is ill.”

“Get men to the ports! We need to stop Yara leaving the ports.”

“You won’t be able to...Lady Stark?” 

Catelyn had been more dishevelled than normal. Her eyes were haunted. She was out for blood since she no longer wept, she was engulfed with rage. This war had been personal when her husband lost his head but now it had taken two innocent boys. Boys she had nursed from her own breasts. “You will find her. You will bring her to me and you will leave me alone with her with a blade.”

“Mother. Not now.” Robb said. This situation was tense. Theon remained silent but all eyes were on her. 

“I will march up north with some of the men and I will kill that Greyjoy bitch!” She threw down her sewing and opted to pick up a knife and stabbed one of the Greyjoy pawns that resided on the map. Theon stood back a little bit. She was beginning to wish that she hadn't banished Baelish from the camp. If she hadn't then maybe she could have seduced him into finding a way to kill Yara. He knew she would have done it for her if she promised him something good in return. She shivered at the thought but if it meant justice she’d do it. Even if it meant betraying Ned’s sacred memory. 

Catelyn was a lady who never swore before in her entire life. 

“Theon is right here!” Robb tried to tell her. She was emotional at her son's death but that was no reason for her to be acting the way she was. 

In a state of Rage, she saw a knife residing on the table. It was all Theon’s fault. He hadn’t convinced Balon hard enough and now she was grieving because of what his sister did. All Greyjoy’s were evil and it would only be a matter of time before this one turned on them as well. She grabbed the knife and before any of the boys could react she was closing in on the Greyjoy. 

“She should have killed you instead.” Catelyn held the knife to Theon’s throat but he didn’t flinch away from it. Catelyn held it for a couple of moments longer before dropping it to the ground and crying into his shoulder. She didn't mean it she knew what murderous intent was and this wasn't it. Her grief was exploding for all of them to see. 

“MOTHER.” Robb knew Catelyn was in grief but she was getting a little extreme especially seeing as Theon was right in front of her. Catelyn was sobbing loudly for everyone to hear. 

Theon had gone through a long enough day and this was something he wasn't going to deal with right now. He knew that things like this shouldn't have gotten to him but they did so much. He was done with taking insults in his former life and he could take no more. 

Theon walked out and Robb would have gone after him but Catelyn needed him more. Everything was falling apart. 

\-------------------------------------------

Alas, a couple of hours had passed for all of them. Robb had been in his tent stress planning his next move against the Lannister’s while mother had been working out her emotions. The emotion she was feeling was murderous. She was just so stressed about everything and this seemed the healthiest way to release it. Not a single embroidery sheet remained stabbed with her needle. Eventually when she released what she’d said she forced herself to cry and accept that she had been a horrible mother figure yet again. 

Theon was sitting reading in his tent. A tale of the Daenerys dynasty and all that had lead up to the rebellion. It had been a very interesting read. He found the part about Lyanna especially humorous considering what the truth of the matter was. 

He was just reading about the Greyjoy rebellion when he heard a shuffling coming from outside of his tent. At first, he assumed that was just a guard who happened to be passing by. The closer it got the more he couldn’t ignore it. 

When he heard the person stop in front of his tent he reached for the knife as a defensive measure. It could have been Ramsay who had come back for him. 

“May I enter your tent?” It was a soft feminine voice. A motherly voice came through. Her voice was still recovering from what he assumed was a long period of crying and then coming to reason and realising how badly she had treated him

He called her in. He folded the corner of the page and set it down on the small bedside table. He tapped the table aggressively waiting to get this conversation over with.

She made her way in and stood before him. She had a look of regret in her eyes. “I am apologizing for my actions earlier...I don’t know what you must think of me.” It wasn't fake for the sake of pleasing Robb. It was for the sake of genuinely trying to apologize to him. 

Theon remained silent. It was a horrible thing that she had said. Even though her boys were presumed dead there had been no need for such harshness. 

“I did die Lady Stark. It's hard to describe the feeling of being dead.” It was actually really easy for his to describe the feeling of being dead. It was like sleeping but you were fully awake and aware of what was going on. Like sleepwalking but you weren’t dreaming.

She hated the fact that it was what her boys were experiencing right now while she still breathed air into her own lungs. 

He couldn’t bear to see her crying. It was more uncomfortable than anything else. She had been as strong as a rock so to see her breaking down like this was something he couldn’t accurately react to. “I am going to tell you something. This is a secret you take to the grave. Not even Robb must know.” 

Catelyn ceased all crying in favour of listening to what he had to say. 

“I lied Lady Cat your son's are not dead.” He had a good idea of what he was doing here it was just a matter of he would be able to pull it off effectively enough. 

Catelyn could have cried with joy but she was burning with rage first. It was Unthinkable that he would lie to her about something like this. She raised her hand and saw was about to make contact but Theon was unusually quick to avoid her minor wrath. 

“Why did you lie to my son? My boys live and you were going to lie to my face!” Her tone is voice was just about boarding yelling. He needed her to quiet down. 

“Yara needed the boy’s dead. When she couldn't find them she knew the iron born would turn on her if she showed even the smallest sign of weakness. Even though they respected her this was Winterfell and they didn't want to risk losing it. I recognised the boys on the wall and it wasn’t Bran and Rickon. She burned them so she could hide her failure.” He explained. 

Catelyn was able to understand this logic despite not agreeing with it. They were his family after all and she supposed that this was the best solution for everyone the boys were alive and Yara wouldn't have been mutinied. Still, that couldn’t excuse the murder of two unarmed children.

“She still murdered two boys.” She reminded him. Theon gave a deep sigh. He knew. Justice had to be served for the children. Two young boys had still been brought before the kraken's daughter and burned so even though it wasn't her boys she would still face trial for what she has done we are being put to an eternal prison somewhere. It was just this needed to be done and quickly.

She'll pay for them I'll see to it.” Because she would have to. His sister mightn’t have felt guilt and the gods would certainly say that you pay for what she did. Then again since this was just his do-over he began to wonder if these people even counted. The way the gods worked confused he but he wouldn’t have to think about this type of stuff for much longer.

She looked towards her prayer wheel and thank the gods for the news she had just been blessed with. She halted when she realised something important. She didn’t know where her children were. 

“But where are Bran and Rickon now?" Catelyn cried. It was evident that they escaped from Winterfell but that meant it was too young boys one of who was a cripple, a simpleton half giant and some Wilding whore from the reports she had heard. All of who had managed to get past the walls of Winterfell. Now as far as she was concerned her babies were now in a greater danger

“I've told my sister where they're going.” Theon replied confidently. 

Without the context of what he was going to say she was going to scream again only this time it would be for the guards to come over to seize the traitor to the North. The one who had sold out her children for the sake of family honour. 

“You gave them up?” This felt like a betrayal that she had never felt before. 

Theon’s body became more confident in this next part. 

“I told her they’re going to Lysa.” To every person in the North it would make sense as to where The Boys should likely go. Their aunt ruled over the Vale and essentially the main Castle was located high in the mountains. So far away that it will take the iron born a while to get there. Just long enough for bran and Rickon to make it.

“They’re going to go to my sister and you gave them up?” She repeated with more anger in her voice. Why wouldn’t Bran and Rickon go to a family relative? It made sense for their safety. 

He couldn’t help his little smirk that came along with saying this next part. 

“Consider it this way. Where is closer the Vale or the Wall?”

The idea suddenly clicked in her head what Theon was implying, what the boys had done or rather where they're gone. She had to sit herself down for a quick moment to recover herself. It made sense now. 

“They're going to Jon? But how do you know they'll go to him?” She could see how this plan would work but being had no way of knowing if that's what the boys would do. Even then we could have been doing things that they hadn't considered like going to the Blackfish or Edmure or even any of the allied houses. Judging by what he said he wouldn’t have had a chance to talk to them before they had left. 

“Well where you would go? To a half-brother you’ve grown up with or an aunt you’ve never seen before in your life. They know how to get to the Wall. All you have to do is go north and you’ll find it. The Vale is more complicated without knowing where it is. With it being in the sky and all." 

It made more sense. The wall was closer and the guards would be more suspicious seeing the iron born so far north. The wall was either going to the safest or least safest place for them but as much as she hated to admit it Jon had grown to love those boys and he wouldn’t let anyone lay a hand on them. 

Now this cat was sure of what was going on she used her quick mind to finally put the pieces into place and help her boys in any way she could.

“We should send a raven to my sister immediately. She can capture any iron born who come her way and we can use them against Balon. If Bran and Rickon go that way we will get them back regardless.” Strangely enough this plan sounded like it was bound to work. Of course there were many a thing that could go wrong with it but overall it seemed like it would be the beginning of the Starks reuniting. 

It was commonly known around the Seven Kingdoms that Lysa Arryn was somewhat of an ill woman. After her husband was murdered she had become ever more unstable, her son was coming up to his 10th naming day and yet he still sucked at her tit like he was still a new-born. And the family had a fascination with putting people through the moon door. Catelyn was sure that they’d be fine but perhaps they would be altered slightly after being exposed to her. 

“Do you trust your sister?” He asked. He had never met Lysa but everyone knew the rumours. 

Catelyn's face turn cold. The more she thought about her sister the more she realised she was unstable. The truth was no. She didn't trust her sister one bit at all. She wasn't right in the head but she was family and in this case her only hope. If anything she hoped that she would remember their family words. Family, Duty, Honour

“That's a different matter entirely. She hasn't looked at me favourably since the incident with Tyrion Lannister but I suppose she'll help if we offer her something.”

“I'm trying to think of what someone like Lysa would like.” She didn't seem like a woman who enjoyed the clothes or the Jewellery or any man-made possession. There is only one thing that's the both of them knew she would want and it wasn’t something either of them could give. 

“A marriage for her son and a husband for herself. Little finger perhaps get him off my back. I'm not sure we will be able to find someone who will be suitable. Your father could become her hostage. That would be a suitable torture for what he did.”

“You'd be getting him a terrible advantage.” He remarked. 

“How so?” She asked.

“You'd be giving him sea and sky.” He remarked. It would be quite funny to see Balon and Lysa form a union. They’d be the worst couple in the world but they’d be quite the interesting match. Balon wouldn’t like being so far from the water. Lysa wouldn’t like that Balon was a decrepit old bastard. A horrible, horrible relationship that must never be brought to life. 

Speaking of Marriage the whole thing had gotten him rather interested in Lady Catelyn’s own love life. She hasn't shown any sign of interest in anyone since her husband's passing. 

“Lady Cat do you ever think you'll remarry?” An odd question but one that needed to be asked. The dark aura of the previous conversation had drifted away so they could finally move onto some lighter topics. Though perhaps Ned wasn’t the best thing to bring up if he wanted things to be peaceful. 

Anyone who asked about Ned were often met with harsh words. Baelish had been the first person to find out this information. She had felt a certain power over him while holding the knife to his throat. If she had known what was to come with Sansa and Baelish she would have not held back the blade and would have plunged it straight into his heart. 

“I thought about it a lot but I could never betray my husband like that.” It did feel like a betrayal to her. They were meant to be husband and wife until death do us part. Death had parted them but she would wait until her own death to be reunited with him. They were strong together but now she had to be strong on her own. The mother wolf was now the leader of the pack.

She had a hollow gasp. She was remembering the moment the news had arrive of her husband's death. How she found her son ruining his sword as he almost chopped down a tree to relieve his anger at the situation. 

“We will get Vengeance. Maybe not right now but somewhere someday. So she will pay for everything she's done.” Theon didn’t want her crying anymore. 

“Cersei? I think we'd rather take out the king first.” Cersei may have been the Lioness but Joffrey was the one that was terrorized by everyone. Fear was an excellent tactic for keeping people in line.

“Joffrey's nothing but a thick skull. Cersei is the one who put the words in his brain. May have objected to The Killing of Ned but everything else has been her.” Theon had such a broadened perspective now. Originally he had thought that it was all Joffrey but now he had been able to see how it had consisted of a large network of other people influencing each other. At the head of the lion had been Tywin Lannister. He was the one who was essentially waging the war for his grandson.

 

I know I've said it before but I'm sorry. Not just for earlier but everything else. It's hard.” Though sometimes she could be hard to work with and a little bit harder to get along with he was now given a new perspective on all lives. People had reasons for doing the things that they did. They all had their own goals and motivations. Now he could understand them all perfectly.

“You didn't deserve any of this. Who knows maybe the gods will Grant you a chance to change it all.”

He smirked at this. 

 

“Do you still believe in The Drowned god or have you converted?” She wouldn't blame him if he lost faith. After all everything that had happened to him would be enough to make anyone lose their faith in the gods. Even she herself was a little sceptical as to why they would allow something like this to happen to someone who had been for the most part innocent. 

“I'm going to believe in myself and the men around me. I believe in the gods only second to that.” 

She was stunned so much but she forgot to say what was going through her mind. He was younger than her by a lifetime but he was wiser then she had ever been and was more. He had only been alive for a short amount of time but such eloquent words he spoke. It inspired her a little bit. Perhaps if men were to put their faiths into themselves then they’d be more likely to win their battles. 

I have business to attend to. This war isn't going to be won by us sitting here and talking about the gods.” She remarked and looked outside. The darkness seemed to have settled rather quickly and it was about time that they should be heading their own ways. Catelyn was sure her son would want to talk to her about something. 

“Don’t mention anything to Robb.”

She nodded. She understood why this secret needed to be kept. I would ensure the safety of both her children and his sister. An even deal. A Stark for a Greyjoy.

They both supposed that it was time for them to leave. They had spent the better part of an hour. 

I will see you in the morning.” Theon gave her a small hand shake.

When Catelyn left he crossed her of his list of people he had to make amends with. The corner of his dried lips curled up into a small smile. He could rest easy knowing that Catelyn would be able to die with the knowledge that her boys were alive. They mightn’t have been safe but the blood still ran through their bodies and they would live to see another day. 

Rickon would only live for another couple of years. 

The youngest Stark boy. Murdered during the battle of the bastards by Ramsay Bolton. Jon had told him he had been shot through the heart with an arrow. Theon should have been there. If he had been at Ramsay’s side maybe he could have messed up his shot or deliberately have broken all of his arrows so they’d be unusable. 

He had already wept for Rickon several times in the past so I guess there was no point of doing it anymore. 

On his small walk back to his tent he looked up at the sky. Millions of stars were littering the sky that night and the winds blew across his face with a gentleness he hadn't known for years. His mind was finally taking all of this in. Things were being changed for the better and perhaps everything was going to be alright. 

Robb was safe and happy with his love, Catelyn knew her boys were alright and Yara had avoided a fate with Ramsay. Finally, everything was going the way that it was meant to. The god's plan was falling into place and he had broken through all of the hardships. They were shining just for him.

Theon walked back to his tent and before he flopped down on the bed with exhaustion he was greeted by a figure in his room. He feared it was another assassin but who it was far, far worse. As he reached for his sword his hand stopped himself before he did something that he would regret. 

The figure was looking at the small book he kept beside his bed and looked up when he heard Theon entering the tent and he all but glanced up, his eyes lighting up as they glowed with the light of the lanterns. He was about to yell at someone for being in his tent without his permission but then the figurer slyly raised his head upwards. 

As if in an instant his eyes glazed over as he could have fallen to his knees. 

It couldn’t be...It simply couldn’t be…

 

 

 

“Good evening Lord Greyjoy.” Ramsay said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Okay, I apologize to Theon. I *really* didn't realise how much shit I put him through until someone pointed it out.)


	11. The Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Upon seeing Ramsay's face Theon has a violent memory back to one of the worst experience's he ever had during his captivity in the Dreadfort.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised a new, fully checked over, chapter and one of the best I think I've written. A flashback chapter. Just a little warning: Torture and Non-con in the middle/end. Torture is graphic whereas non-con is semi-descriptive. You can tell when it's building up to it. Anyway, I hope you enjoy as always and I hope you look forward to the confrontation next week!

Winterfell. 

A place that Theon had once been kept as a hostage. A place he had once taken over. A place where he had been reborn. Winterfell was getting colder than it ever had before. The winter was approaching fast and with a wrath. The North wasn’t in winter yet but the snow on the ground was showing otherwise. 

Winterfell was at the mercy of the Bolton’s. Robb had just been murdered by Roose so naturally by Royal decree of Prince Joffrey he had been made the Warden of the North and was given the entire castle of Winterfell for his ‘Valiant efforts’ in helping to win the war of the five kings. People were scared of their new lord but they learned quickly as long as they remained on his good side then they need not fear his blade. 

Theon at least got an upgrade with this arrangement. Instead of the Bolton dungeon he was given the luxury, if you could even call it that, of sleeping with the dogs. It was uncomfortable but when compared with the murky smell of waterlogged wood and the aching position he was in constantly before he didn’t have many complaints. At least he had straw. Straw would keep him warm. 

Roose was the one that everyone was told to look out for. Ramsay may have been a brute but behind every brute is a man who is controlling them. And in this specific case it happened to be his own father.

Theon had just come out from the kitchen a place where he was all the time but where he was ironically never allowed to eat. He had just been moving the chicken carcasses for that afternoon’s dinner when Ramsay and his boys had confronted him. His palms became so slippery so quickly he was close to dropping the rope that held the chickens. If Ramsay were to see him wasting food he would lose a body part for sure. Maybe a tooth or a finger for such clumsiness. 

Theon had hopes that he said he would be leaving for a time on a short hunting trip. He was right in a sense but not in the way that he’d have hoped. How foolish of him to have even the slightest bit of hope in this hell. In Ramsay thick hands there was a freshly sharpened blade held in his hands and the boys all had that look about him. Ramsay must have just gotten it from the blacksmith. 

His body changed. He hunched his shoulders and dipped his head down slightly. His eyes didn’t dare to look up. He would be punished for looking up without permission. 

“Reek! I want to play a game with you.” Ramsay said while twirling his knife around in his fingertips, if it had moved any closer then surely they would have been sliced off and he would be squirming in pain. Did Ramsay even feel pain? Theon cringed at the thought. 

Then again Theon wasn't quite aware of the relationship between pain and himself. It would take an idiot not to realise that Ramsay enjoyed pain on others but he wasn't sure of pain on himself. Perhaps he only enjoys seeing others pained expressions. Ramsay was a mad man but would his madness reach such a level that he would inflict pain upon his own body. Then again he must have felt a rush of being in control. 

‘No...He wants to be a god and gods live forever. He wouldn’t risk his own livelihood for the sake of feeling more power.’ Theon thought to himself. It was reasonable for anyone to assume this but only Theon knew there was more to it. Reek knew more than most people did.

A game Ramsay wanted to play. This wasn't going to end well. 

“The basis of this game is rather simple that even a dog such as yourself would be able to understand it.” Ramsay once again taking sheer delight in talking down to him. He’d never seen Ramsay eat anything sweet before so perhaps the only sweetness he would find was the torture of others.

Theon pushed back his fight reflex into the farthest corner of his mind and waited for whatever it was that Ramsay was going to say next. What the rules of his little game were going to be.  
He followed Ramsay out to the court yard where the bastard boys were waiting on him. Most of them had their expressions soured as they looked at him. They could smell him from here.

“Hide and seek. You go hide somewhere in Winterfell and I’ll give you some time before I go to find you. Well me and the boys. Myranda is out on business with her father so that’s good for you.”

Internally he was scowling at the thought of that horrid, smirking bitch. He hoped that a runaway cart would run her over and smash in her skull. What a pretty picture that would be.

Any method of her dying simply made him happy. He could vividly picture her face being mauled off by the dogs she adored so much. She’d be pretty then. She’d be in the shoes of all of those girls before her. 

No. Dogs would be too quick for her. Maybe a torture would be more suited for her. Like ripping out her breasts and taking a knife to her womanhood but leaving her alive after. That way she could watch as Ramsay dumped her for some other common girl who enjoyed a good hunt. She knew those were her only vulnerable assets and the only reason Ramsay kept her about. 

He hid his smirk at the idea. 

“The good lady is out?” He asked?

“That’s pleasant of you Reek. I’d hardly call her a lady but if that’s what you want to do then by all means. Call her your lady.”

“Of course. Milord. How foolish of me milord. Lady Miranda.” 

He was jealous of her but sometimes, just sometimes, Myranda was jealous of him. 

She was jealous that Ramsay and he had something that she didn’t. They had been the best of friends since they were youths but through Myranda’s eyes she could see that Ramsay would always care more about the prisoner then he ever would her. He was his key to power while she was just some distraction for him to toy with. A kennel master's daughter who just happened to be good company for him. It made her blood boil but thankfully Ramsay often would go out on his own with the boys leaving her all alone with poor little Reek.

Myranda had her ways of torture too. As a lady she was quite fond of small knives as they could inflict a smaller amount of pain on more places of the body. She also enjoyed poison as so many other women like her did. Her preferences were to those which were fast acting and have an instantly noticeable effect but she was often limited as she needed one that an antidote could be provided for as to not permanently kill Ramsay’s piece of property. She would give him a small amount to drink which would cause him to gag however she would soon after force the vile tasting antidote down his throat and watch as he recovered from the initial effects of the poison. 

Ramsay had been a little bit annoyed that Myranda had been playing with his toy without asking him first but he could forgive her when he saw the deathly look on Theon’s face. It made him smile. 

He would kill her first. He made sure of it. She reeked of dogs just like he had so it followed she should suffer the same fate as he did. 

Ramsay brought out a small wooden hourglass. Ramsay wasn’t going to give him the full hour judging by the amount of sand that he had within the device. The knife marks by the bottom and small cracks on the glass let him know it was another rigged game. He was getting good at knowing when games were rigged but he couldn't say anything about it, less he face a whipping he wouldn't forget.

The first grain of sand fell and he scampered away like some kind of injured animal. The boys snickered at him as he failed at even something as simple as running. 

He looked frantically around the courtyard and tried to think about where he could hide that would be good. The common people looked to him but soon averted their gaze. It was common knowledge that anyone should avoid the bastards pet for fear that he would have something to say about it. Many people did feel pity for him but then they remembered what he did in Winterfell and everyone felt a little less guilty about leaving him to suffer. Then again it was better him than then. 

That’s when he thought about the weir wood tree. It was shaded and he doubted that Ramsay and the boys would check a place of worship first so he could hide there. 

He hobbled this way to the tree and looked around for wherever would be a good spot. The trees were a good quiet place where he could hide. 

What would happen when they found him? Would they simply beat him for fun or would he be their prize for a hunt well done. He didn’t want to think about it. 

Theon had carved a hole in the ground and cover it with the dirt and leaves he could find, the smell should have been strong enough to deter the dogs from doing so. His shaking hands were frantically spreading them all about so that it would be able to look somewhat natural.

He lay on the dirt and worked on getting his breathing to a near non-existent state. The less noise he made the safer that he would be over all. Silence meant safety. 

For a moment everything was calm. The only sound was the leaves in the trees blowing and the occasional rustle of the bush, it would have a bird and or mouse who may have been looking for food.

A sound in the distance. At first it was impossible to make out. It got more aggressive and more frequent. Then it became all too clear what it was. A vicious barking came closer and he lost it. It would always become clearer when they were closing in on the kill. 

It was too late one of them had found them. The biggest and best of The Hunter dogs. Two others followed as they began to sniff out the area. He was praying that the dirt would be enough to deter them but one had a good nose and found him in a couple of seconds of them entering the sacred God’s woods. 

The dogs were jumping on top of him. Some out of excitement about seeing them and some wanting to please their master and alerting him of his presence. So this is how Ramsay Bolton would cheat at the game this time. Not just by the hour Glass but by using dogs to smell him out. His stench was the one thing that gave him away to both men and dogs

How had his life come to this? All he had wanted was a place to call his own and be free from anyone else. 

The dog’s claws were scratching at his flesh leaving a long trail of pink coloured flesh and a couple of bit of scraped skin, the type that was a pale white. He gasped in pain Theon’s back was on the ground and being pinned down by the dogs was something he wanted to stop but he didn’t have the strength to push the highly trained mutts from off him. His hand felt around the soil for anything he could have used to defend himself. He felt over leaves and small pebbles but nothing substantial. Nothing turned up until he felt something thick and sturdy. Judging by the texture it was a branch of some kind. If it was a thick branch he could beat them off without causing any harm. 

His arm suddenly brought the branch forwards and to the dogs head. How fatally he misjudged what he had just done. Since he had been on his back he hadn’t seen what the top of the stick had been like. The weir wood tree had very pointed branches, so pointed that many people feared they would draw blood just by touching. So pointed that they could pierce through skin as if it were warmed butter. 

Something warm had fallen onto Theon’s chest. At first it was simply one drop but then two drops came after that. A liquid? Then three then more and more. His eyes were tightly shut but he knew that the weight should have moved from off him. A whining sound came from around him and all the barking seemed to have completely gone to silence. 

You see it was simple what had happened. The tip of this pointed branch happened to catch the main dog’s neck and it punctured it without Theon realizing. Not until he saw that he was having trouble moving the stick back again. 

He stabbed the dog through the neck with the pointed branch and watched in horror as he wiggled out from under it and its body hit the earthy ground. Theon had his eyes closed and prayed that his vision had just been blurred but when he opened them he could see that all of the dogs had stopped the aggression at him. Instead were nudging their fallen sister to see if she would wake up. She wasn’t moving at all. 

His hands were stained red. He tried to stop the bleeding as the blood was pouring out of her neck but it was evident that she was already in death’s final grasp. Reek was swearing quietly under his breath.

Reek was gone. He had just accidently killed one of his master’s beloved hunting dogs. It had been Kyra as well. His first bitch. That dog had been given to Ramsay as a companion when he was first brought to the Dreadfort. She may have been old but by god she was still the most vicious of them all. 

Theon placed a bloodied hand on his face as he realised what he had done. In the eyes of his master this was murder. He had destroyed what was his own and someone was going to have to pay the price. 

And it wasn't going to be him. He would make sure that it wasn't him.

This was his last attempt. If this didn’t work Theon would be gone for good and he would finally allow Reek full control. For this type of betrayal he may have lost a lot more than a body part. He may have even lost his life but in the end Ramsay would never allow that. Too valuable he would say. 

So far it had been reek in control but Theon had always pushed back a little bit so he could still remember his true name. His name was Theon, no, His name was Theon. His name was Theon. He was a last living son of Balon. His sister was the daughter of the Kraken. He was a Greyjoy.

Theon had prepared for this event. A day that he would try his final daring escape attempt. Sort of a backup plan if he ever messed up so badly that potentially Ramsay would end his life. This had taken months of planning. The reek side of his knew this would end badly he just knew it. He took a deep breath and just let everything go. His fear of what the master would do, his feelings about what this would entail if he failed. This would work and he just needed to keep on telling himself that.

From out of the brittle weir wood tree he punched the bark away and it scattered all around the area around him. His arm reached into the hole and he felt around despite the many cuts on his hand.

In the small hole in the tree there were several items. Blue roses, cloth and a worn out old hat. All the items that would help him to escape. This plan had to work.

The roses were the first thing that he grabbed. He didn’t care that the thorns were piercing his flesh. He grabbed the flowers by the head and ripped it off from the sharp stem. He chucked the thorns to the side. He didn’t need them. 

He rubbed the winter roses over his body. The fragrance of them were reminiscent of the ladies that always inhabited Winterfell. Dainty, beautiful and strong. He rather enjoyed smelling of something other than sweat and dirt for once. These were the flowers that had been such an ancient part of their history together. Lyanna Stark accidentally started a war when she was awarded the crown of roses, a young lady had been taken in the dead of night when the Lord of the castle had promised him the finest flower he had in the garden. 

Theon was only making himself more nervous when he thought that bad things always proceeded the use of the roses. 

Theon had never seen the young stark girl but he had heard many tales of her wondrous beauty. Anytime he saw beauty in his mind it always met with the same fate. It would always turn to ash and dust. Reek wasn’t allowed to even think of the word beautiful unless it was describing his master. Reek was just a disgusting little freak. An ugly goblin whom no one could ever truly love. They would sneer at his deformities and the girls would laugh at his handicap. He thought about her as he made the stinking smell disappear from his own body.

He sniffed the air and it was as sweet as the freedom he was about to get. The roses were brittle and had been broken by how vigorously he had used them. They had no use now. Except maybe as a small offering to the dead. 

He grabbed a handful of the petals and placed them on the deceased dog’s body. He didn’t often know it but it seemed like the right thing for him to do. 

The other dogs in the area somehow knew that Theon hadn’t meant to kill her as they nuzzled against his legs and used their sloppy tongues to lick his bare legs. He tensed up at the sudden sensation but didn’t scream. 

There was a moment of silence for the fall before Theon remembered that he was on a time limit so he’d better not waste any more of it. Each grain that fell was a second closer to his undoing. 

His stench was dealt with now it was just time to focus on the most notable feature about him. His hair. It was long and scraggly. No man would ever be caught dead with his hair looking in such a state. He had thought about taking a blade and cutting it. Just slashing and hacking until all of it was gone. He couldn't do that either. His hair was the one of the few things that kept him warm and he couldn't risk losing it. Besides if he got out of this alive he could sell it to a wig maker and get some money to go home. Such long hair would fetch a pretty penny.

However thankfully he had managed to find a solution for his hair troubles.

A little while ago a farmer had come to offer the new lords of Winterfell a gift of a bountiful harvest. A trailer filled with potatoes, ripe juicy tomatoes and the freshest flowers that the North had on offer. Funnily when the farmer had gone back to his cart his beloved farmers hats that had surprisingly gone missing in the dead of the winter. Though he looked around he eventually came to the assumption that it had simply blown away. He didn't even notice that Theon’s stomach seemed a little bit more unshaped than usual.

Back in the present Theon rubbed his fingers over the hat. His light fingers had made quick work of it. He tucked his long hair away and made sure every last golden brown coloured strands was inside it. It was one of his defining features around the Dreadfort. His hair was the colour of rotting wheat and it was about as long as it too. It was recognised by everyone.

Finally he placed the last thing on. The clothes.

This had been the riskiest thing he had done. He had stolen from the Lord of the Dreadfort himself.

Apparently Ramsay still had a certain fondness for his previous life as he still kept some of his workers clothes about. Ramsay had lived with his mother a certain time before his mother begged for help in raising their child. Roose couldn’t refuse his own blood so he let the peasant teenager into his home. Not realising this would be the worst mistake he ever make.  
He dumped the clothes in a bush. They wouldn’t look in the bushes but it could distract them for a time. 

He felt such liberation when he put them on. He wore them under his rags and when Ramsay was out on business for his father he snuck them into the tree. He didn’t get caught then and he wouldn’t get caught now. He needed to tell himself that. He rose up off the ground and began to walk towards the exit. 

He made his way past the first obstacle with bated breath. Two men who decided that they needed to look around his kennel. A sweat drop rolled down his forehead as he walked right past one of Ramsay’s boys as they began to look for him all about, this man in particular he didn’t know the name of but he was a cruel man with sharp eyes.

Theon was panicking as he could see the man's nose twitching as he picked up on the scent of the roses like when a shark sniffed out blood and went in for the kill. He looked away before they saw his face. 

“Do you smell flowers?” Theon was facing away but he knew his eyes were staring at the back of his head. With each step he took he made it look as natural as possible. As much as the limp would allow him to make it natural. 

The man beside him sniffed the air as well and looked where his friend was looking. Theon was about to drop to his knees and demand that they forgive him for such rebellious behaviour. 

“That must be me. I had a little rendezvous with a woman this morning. Big old tits covered in flowers.” The other nudged him in the ribs and they both laughed while Theon walked away more from them. He was coming too close to be caught now.

A sound came from the gods woods. 

“REEK! COME OUT OF HIDING NOW!” Ramsay yelled for all the Dreadfort to hear. There was severe anger dripping in his voice. He must have found Kyra. His murdered dog had enraged him so much that he would beat reek within an inch of his life.

Around the dog's corpse Ramsay was furious with what had just found. He had seen the flowers that had been left on its still warm body. 

One of his oldest and dearest friends, his most loyal dog had just been savagely murdered at the hands of another one of his dogs. A weaker bitch. 

He turned and barked commands at his men. 

“Spread out and find him! I want him back here alive. He’s a murderous cunt and I want him back.”

“But Ramsay shouldn’t we pay our respects first”

“You go. I’ll be out in a moment.” He said with sadness.

“But Lord Ramsay!” The man tried to speak. 

Ramsey didn't even need the yell all he needed to do was give the man that one look. The sort of look that let him know if he stayed there second longer he would beat him until he could see the gods faces. The man was fast to leave the scene while Ramsay looked over his dogs. He felt a great loss this day. He had lost many men over the years, some of his closest friends. Nothing compared to this emotion. 

A silent mourning was in order. For his lost beloved pet. 

He would give her the right burial. She would be used to feed the other dogs. No point in wasting good meat if it was available. 

Upon hearing the command that the boys were looking for him Theon walked even faster. Now he was power walking. Running would be too suspicious for this situation so keeping his movements in line was key. 

All of his efforts were now being rewarded. He reached the gate. No guards were watching over them. Anyone could have come and gone as they pleased.

Freedom was in his grasp. The guards must have run away to go help Ramsay when they heard him screaming the head of himself. Theon could have ran. He could have gone beyond that Winterfell wall and never have to see Ramsay again. There was one thing that was stopping him.

Reek. Reek was never in a million years going to let him set foot outside these walls unless the master had said that it was okay to do so. Master would hurt them for doing such a stupid thing. Master had told him the outside world was dangerous 

He took the step and everything seemed to just melt away for him. 

 

Once he was a safe distance away he began to run as fast as he possibly could. The freedom of being able to run through the woods on his own without having to run after some poor girl they were deciding to hunt. 

 

He heard the dogs coming out from the gate. They were distant but they were fast. Far faster then he could ever hope to be. Still it didn’t stop him. He knew how powerful their jaws could be on bones and he didn’t want the first-hand experience of being bitten. Teeth ripping his flesh into itty bitty little pieces. The sharp images refused to leave his mind no matter how hard he tried to make them go away.

He was wondering how they could have possibly found him. He wasn't bleeding from anywhere. 

There had been blood on his hands. He assumed this was because of the dogs. He wiped the hand on a patch of grass that was showing through the snow but then he saw how they were finding him.

The thorns which had cut him had made a bigger range of cut then he anticipated. Minor cuts caused no pain. Blood would still flow. Even the tiniest of drops would set the rabid dogs off in a frenzy. 

The dogs had found him and he was running throughout the woods. He was seriously trying to run now. Theon had taken back full control form Reek even though Reek was begging him not to do what he was about to do. They couldn’t outrun the dogs. Not if they tried in a million years.  
Theon hid behind a tree which seemed to be covered in a lightly scented moss. He prayed that mixed with the flower scent he had on himself it would be enough to get them to stop pursuing him. It would deter the dogs for a little bit. At least until he could think of somewhere he could hide.

Perhaps he could be able to run all the way to the wall. It wouldn’t take him long at all. Then again with a limp it might only take him a week. Then again he could have been dead before that point given he would have no food or water to keep him living. Maybe he could run the other way to the vale. He could pretend to be a friend of the north. Someone who was a refuge of the Bolton takeover. 

The wall or the Vale were but a distance dream as he felt a huge body of fur slam him to the ground. The dogs were able to get to him first. Their mouths were foaming and their teeth were showing clearly. They began to snarl as Theon tried to move. 

Through Ramsay’s blue eyes all he could see was a strange man in familiar clothes getting attacked by his dogs. Ramsay’s head shook and he figured he might as well help the man seeing as he just seemed like a passer-by. After all his father did mention to him he needed to be respectful of the locals if he was to keep them in line. 

He could focus getting his pet back after. Reek had to atone for killing one of the dogs. 

Ramsay held out a hand and offered it to the stranger. Theon looked up in defeat. Theon knew he had been found out and there was no way to deny it. He took a deep breath and prayed to any god who would hear him out in his time of need. 

When both eyes met it was like a catastrophic event had just taken place. Theon’s body automatically went into the defensive stance while Ramsay snapped. He had seen the master mad at him before but this was something different. Theon was cowering but it didn’t make him happy as it normally would. 

Ramsay ripped the cap from of his head to confirm it was his pet. When he light coloured locks fell down into place that it when Ramsay snapped. They fell in front of his terror stricken face. Without a moment's hesitation Ramsay grabbed violently at Theon’s thinning hair and continued to do so until he could get a good grip on it. Blood was drawn from his scalp and Theon tried to get his hand off but it was met with the back of Ramsay’s dry hand. 

Theon mumbled his begging and apologise but Ramsay was so caught up in his own mind he didn’t even notice. Theon grabbed towards the hat as if somehow he could get it back on his head all of this would stop and go back the way that it had been. Theon dug his nails into the tree. He didn’t care how many splinters he wanted to delay the inevitable. 

He felt the smaller parts of wood going underneath his fingernails. It wasn't as painful as the blade but he still needed to do this.

Ramsay spoke. 

“I’m hurt. I really thought that Theon was dead. I was so proud of you when you had killed him but it seems not. Oh well. I suppose I have to take him to the Winterfell dungeon.” Ramsay said. 

Ramsay and a group of the other men surrounded him and Theon wished in this moment he could have passed out from the fear he was feeling. They were in the courtyard. 

 

“You tried to run…” Ramsay’s tone was so undetermined Theon didn’t know if he should be scared or….No he should just be terrified of whatever it was that was about to happen. 

“Master I’m so sorry. I didn’t.” It was stupid and it hadn’t worked as Theon had expected. 

 

“You idiot!”

Ramsay had never been betrayed by his reek before. He had thought that Reek was properly broken down. He had done everything right that he could have done. He whipped him pulled out teeth, he flayed him within an inch of his life and made him the most depraved being he had ever had the pleasure of laying his eyes on.

Ramsay punched Theon while he was down. When Theon fell he didn’t get back up. Not because he was weak but because if he got back up then he would only receive more punishment than what he was going to get. Ramsay was going to punish him without any mercy. He had held back before but now he was going to go full force this time. All sorts of knives and other devices. 

He felt a small smile form on his lips as he thought about the wonder of training his little Reek all over again. The first time he smiled during this whole situation. 

Ramsay had Theon surrounded by his boys. He may have been a sheep among wolves in Winterfell metaphorically when he was a boy now it was truly that situation. A cowardly sheep surrounded by people who wanted to rip him apart. 

He whistled and two boys grabbed him by the wrists. With a slump they dragged him across the ground. He counted each stone his body bumped against as they kept on dragging him.

Thus he was tied up to the post and surrounded by the others. He didn’t raise his head. Not until Ramsay forcefully brought it up to look at his own. Theon’s upper lip was looking like it was about to turn red while his eye was already turning a shade of blue. 

“You remember what happens to those who try to run away from the Dreadfort.”

With those words he spoke Theon began to shiver. He couldn’t go through it. Ramsay was smiling and the boys began to as well for their master. Theon may have been a slave but he could see clearly that they were his servants as well as he was. The only difference was they were so blood hungry Ramsay respected them and found common ground with them.

Theon first felt them pushing him around from man to man while spitting on his face first. Most of them chose to go for the forehead or the eyes but some of the more malicious ones were content enough to aim for his mouth just to watch him try and spit it back out.

Ramsay brought out the whip. A whip was a looser term for it of course. A sort of cat O’ nine tails. It was a whip which had small hooks on the ends of it. No bigger than a fishing hook. One on each strand of leather that it happened to have. A grand total of 5 hooks. Nine new scars he would have to bear. Designed personally by Ramsay himself he assumed. The Winterfell blacksmith must have gotten a lot of new orders in from the young lord. 

Ramsay grabbed it in his hands and he brought it down on Theon’s barren back.

Pain was not enough to describe the sensation of the small hooks catching him on the back and slowly being dragged down ripping his back flesh. He had been cut on his back before but this level of pain was so much it physically left him speechless. 

Roose had been up in his room attending to various affairs when he first heard the sound coming from the main courtyard. He dipped his quill and listened to it for a moment to see if he could be able to work out who it was and why they were screaming. 

The voice was masculine but high pitched. Ramsay was involved by how painful it sounded. He used his logic to work out that it must have been their hostage he was tormenting yet again but it wasn’t for certain. 

He looked out of his window and caught a glimpse of what was going on. A rugged looking Theon was on his knees with his hands tied to a small post as his ward and his gang of miscreants were mercilessly using one of Ramsay’s toys on him for the whole of the courtyard to see. He was making a mockery of it and he was enjoying every single strike he took against him. Roose looked down. He was all for letting Ramsay do his own thing but this was something that was gathering quite a crowd and the people watching this display were getting rather uncomfortable with it. 

Roose set his quill aside and blew out the candle for his wax. It was clear he wouldn’t get to be finishing his work for a while it seemed now. Dealing with his sons messes took up a great deal of time and energy. 

Ramsay kept on doing it. He let the other boys take a turn as well. They only were able to do it limited times however. The whipping was limited to two strikes per boys. Ramsay of course got as many times as he wanted

By the end of the whipping session he could have sworn that his back looked like a freshly ploughed field. Theon could feel roughly 26 new wounds along his back and counting. Reek wouldn’t get the privilege of using a mirror however he was sure Ramsay would trace over the scars with his fingers. Possibly make him look at it as punishment for any future mistakes he was to make. 

Ramsay was doing this because he needed to be taught a lesson. Why else would he be doing this?

His own sick pleasure that’s what.

Ramsay’s fingers dipped into the pool of blood that had formed on the ground and he rubbed it lightly between his fingertips. It was a thicker variety then he was used to but it still worked. 

Ramsay took his blood covered fingers and he pressed them to Theon’s lips. Smearing the dry skin with his own blood to moisturize it. Theon withheld his pained sound as it seeped into the cracks, an intense burning feeling which followed soon after. He went to lick his lips to get rid of the foul tasting liquid but his master was not a man who liked being disrespected and in his eyes Theon trying to remove the blood was disrespectful in the worst way.   
He sniffed Reek as he got closer. 

“Men? Theon screamed like a maiden. Do you see his cock anywhere?”

The penny dropped and his whole body stopped moving. Theon knew what was playing at. No, what he had been playing at since he caught him. He knew what the game was but it was already at the final move. 

This was his fault. If he hadn’t rubbed himself with those roses Ramsay would have never gotten the slightest notion of treating him like a woman. All women who didn’t satisfy Ramsay got the same treatment at the Dreadfort. 

“No Milord. I don’t.” The right hand man known as Damon was playing along with him at this point. 

“Then it would be safe to assume he’s not a man.” Ramsay replied.

What would his father think if he could see what had become of him? How his son was being paraded around the castle of Winterfell for all to see. A fancy whore put onto display. 

“The rules of the Dreadfort state that no man who is a prison will be fucked but I don’t think we have a man before us. Just a worthless little rat. A scullery maid who tried to leave without saying goodbye. I think he at least owes us all a little kiss for trying to leave us.”

Theon pushed against Ramsay. Ramsay’s thick meaty hands grabbed onto the clothing he had stolen and loosened it a little bit from his body. The shock of the cold suddenly came in and he shivered but he was quickly warmed up by the hands of the others rapidly punching and slapping at his body and his skin. He was freezing out in this weather. The only warmth he had was warm blood dripping down his back. 

This was the worst he had smelt in a very long time. He would be a lot worse when it dried. The only one it didn’t seem to offend was Ramsay. 

They passed him around again only this time instead of spit is was hands that were grabbing at him and his clothes. Shredding them of his body. Each rough pass only made his dizzier and dizzier. The world was spinning...Or maybe it was just him. 

They threw him down on the ground causing his recently whipped back to explode in new pain all over again. The cuts weren’t deep enough to kill but simply enough to leave everlasting agony. 

The pool of blood began to form around his back. The pain was stinging in all of the wrong places and he needed to escape but his tiredness was overtaking. His body ceased all movements, maybe if they thought he was dead they would stop. 

It had not been a miracle that had saved him but it had been the father of the man torturing him. Roose came down from his tower to put a stop to this public humiliation once and for all. He may have enjoyed watching others suffer but not if it caused harm to his own name. Unnecessary violence for the sake of violence left a sour taste in his mouth. Not all the time of course just this one time. 

“What is the meaning of this?” He asked in a Lord like tone of voice. Ramsay froze in his place. He had thought his father to be out on business. He should have been considering how he had just won the moat and surely someone in the capitol would have needed to contact him about how much of a good job he was doing at it. Theon only knew that the torment had stopped. 

“Ah father I see that you are just in time for the display. We are punishing him. He tried to run away from us but he couldn’t escape for long.” 

Ramsay’s mind was twisting the situation so it made him look like the good guy. He always had to play the hero in his eyes. 

The crowd were awaiting his response to see how he dealt with his son. Roose glance around at the crowd that had gathered. Some of them made the smart move and went about their daily lives. Some of the others were too thick to begin moving. 

Roose made his way to Ramsay and without warning he struck him across the face. Ramsay’s build was strong enough that he didn’t fall to the ground however it still happened that he was recoiling at the pain of it. A small dribble of blood came out from the very corner of Ramsay’s mouth. It was only about one or two drops which Ramsay was able to wipe away with ease. 

“Father. I was punishing a prisoner. I had to do it.” Ramsay didn’t know what he was doing was wrong. Or he didn’t care. Or he cared just enough that he knew it would display his power while showing off to his father. 

 

“You may be the young Lord of this castle but it doesn’t mean you can go about doing this sort of thing without asking me first. He’s you pet but the public don’t need to see his filth. Regardless he has the status of the Lord of the Iron Islands. We might need him for later and here you are going and ripping open his back. What if you had killed him?”

Ramsay turned pink. He had been told off by his father in front of people as if he were a young boy. These were people who were meant to look up to him one day and this would be their impression of him. 

Roose wouldn’t have allowed this public torture whether or not Ramsay had asked. His son should have had the knowledge to know this was a terrible idea from the start. He understood flaying and cutting but this was something that would cause serious blood loss with no maester on standby ready to heal him. 

This wasn't his fault. He only tortured him because he tried to run away. Because he had murdered one of his beloved dogs. Theon had killed one of his own. Reek had been away during this time but he was back now so they could stop. 

“Father he murdered a dog! Kyra. I’ve known her the longest. I want justice.”

Roose smirked. Someone like Ramsay to be ranting and raving about justice was somewhat ironic to him. 

“Then kill him if you want justice. True it's better if we keep him alive but we don’t need him to live. Go on. Take your justice.”

Roose tossed Ramsay a knife. 

He grabbed the knife then his attention turned towards Theon. This was all happening because of him. He would be punished again in private. His father knew what he was doing. The look was deeply burning within his iced blue eyes. Ramsay was going to do exactly what his father was telling him knowing he couldn’t do anything about it. 

Theon had wanted to crawl away but he wouldn’t get that far. His body was glistening with sweat and sweet red blood.

The boys all hoped they’d get a show and finally see the end of the gutter rat. They’d had fun with him but this would be the perfect way to end todays hunt. 

During all of this Theon had been in and out of consciousness. His eyes managed to stay open long enough just to make eye contact with Roose. The Lord of the Dreadfort and Warden of the North. 

Theon remembered pleading to the warden of the north. His eyes were begging him to stop this. He would gladly take being Roose’s slave over Ramsay’s any day. Roose could be cruel but he would be more relaxed about what was deserving of punishment. 

“Take this into the crypts. Or the kennels. I don’t care. You will cause me embarrassment if you keep on doing this in public.” It was easier to let Ramsey know he could do it rather than trying to tell him otherwise and causing a scene.

Roose tilted his head down to Theon to make sure he was still breathing as he could have been mistaken for a corpse with ease. When he saw the shallow breaths. He looked straight into his eyes and made contact with him. Theon at least tried to reason with Roose before with little to no effect. The coldness in his eyes matched only but the deepest and darkest days of the winter. The days when white walkers roamed. 

Ramsay wanted to argue but Roose’s tone made it all too clear that his word was final and that if they knew what was good for them they would do as they were told less they face his punishment for disobedience. 

“To the crypts I think. Come along boys.” 

Of course he’d chosen the crypts. It was crueller. It smelled worse and didn’t have any comforts. No straw to pad the ground. Just him and the dead. Regret. 

Theon’s bloodied lips parted to protest but they were already dragging him to a place where the dead lay to rest. Perhaps if he was lucky he would have the advantage of joining them. Fitting for them to drag a dead man to the crypts. All he needed now was for the ground to swallow him whole. 

Thus he was dragged down half dead into the crypts. It looked at different since the last time he had been there. Ramsay had added his own personal touch to it. Any of the unimportant graves were defaced with Knives or hammers. Surprisingly enough Ned's statue was completely untouched. If Theon had to make an assumption he would guess that Roose had told him he could touch whatever he wanted except the former warden of the north. He wasn’t stupid or disrespectful of the man who was once called the most honourable man in all of Westeros. 

Robb was giving a grave by Ramsay but it wasn’t one Theon would have picked. It had Grey wind’s decaying head on top of it. The eye ball was hanging out of the left eye socket. All of the blood was dried around it. Ramsay always brought him down there often when he felt like watching him squirm in front of his best friend but this was the first time he was being defiled in this room. 

Normally it was the deepest ends of the kennels. Or the woods. It just depended when Ramsay felt like it. Ramsay liked the power. 

It felt like Robb was watching him from beyond the grave. Watching the decrepit display. Robb was probably laughing at him. Laughing that the one who betrayed him was getting his justice for betraying him. Punishment. He deserve this. Theon had tried to make a comeback but Ramsay had been too strong. Theon was a weak spineless coward. Reek would never betray master again. Reek was a good boy. 

His head lulled to the side when they threw him down on the ground and he fell with a sharp thud. Theon saw Lyanna’s statue as he fell. Ramsay mustn’t have felt like destroying it as the clay statue remained mostly interact save for a couple of chisel marks and minor scrapes. No doubt another one of Roose’s interventions. 

She seemed to be the one thing that survived all of this anarchy. 

Ned’s remains were there too. Fitting for a brother and sister to be buried side by side. They’d been lucky to get his statue in before the Bolton’s took over. It looked nothing like him. They obviously just got some random sculptor to look at his grand portraits and do his best. The lords of Winterfell should have gotten someone who knew him to do it. 

Theon tried to focus on them instead of what was happening on top of him. His eyes were going everywhere where the men were not. Surrounding him was Ramsay’s men but in Reeks’ eyes this was a blur, this type of torture happened so often he had made it an art of simply blocking it out. To the best of his abilities anyway. It wasn’t always successful but it was the best that he could do. 

Words stopped meaning anything unless they were commands. 

He focused on how much they had messed up Ned’s carvings. The artist must have been blind or have only seen painting of Ned….. Because the nose and eyes were all wrong Lady Catelyn wouldn’t…

Fuck.

Lyanna. That's who he could focus on instead of the attack going on around him. She had died by Rhaegar’s hand allegedly and she had been found in a bed of her own blo-

Stop. 

Robb. Where was Robb he should be here? He should be down here too. He should be here saving him from his living nightmare. He couldn’t take this. Going through a continuous cycle of flaying’s, rapes and near deaths. It was hell from which he couldn’t escape. 

Stop.

“Yara! Father! I’m sorry.” Theon was mentally screaming. Each brutal thrust was making it harder and harder to concentrate. A new jolt of pain every second.

Stop!

He couldn't do this anymore. It was like with each thrust he lost a little bit more of himself. He was crying out. The silence didn’t suit him. The sweat after the first man with dripping down onto his chest. Theon couldn’t block it out this time. There was just enough Theon left to know that this wasn't right. It was all too much for him to handle. 

The pain stopped for a moment. It was over from one of the boys at least. That should have been enough to satisfy the boys. He had done it. He wouldn’t be so foolish as to begin wandering again. 

His whole body tried to move but another man kept him firmly on the ground. It was going to be one of those nights. One of those nights where all of the men would have their own little input into the overall torture. Ramsay had orchestrated this all. He doubted that they’d have done this in the official courtyard. They may have stripped him in the courtyard but they would never do the public display there. 

Theon knew they were all going to take him this night. Theon’s body could only do so much before it completely lose its fight. He learnt he should always conserve his fighting power. It made things a lot simpler and often he could get through the other days and relative peace.

He learned things during lessons like this. He learned that Damon had a mark just above his right hip, possibly from a C-section his mother had, another man Darrick seemed to have a scar on his back. It must have been from a bear or animal during a hunt. 

Ramsay’s body was something to be admired. So many different marks all from different times. There was one mark he recognised from times before. It had been one of the only times he had managed could do any harm to Ramsay. A day or so after being let down off the Rack when Ramsay had tried to flay him again and Theon had tried to defend himself using his nails. Nails which had scratched into his neck and now only left a faint White Scar.

He could tell when it was Ramsay’s turn. He was by far the biggest and strongest out of all of them. He was also the one who took the most care. He cared so much as to choose the most degrading and damaging way to have him. 

He liked to have Theon face up, where is all the others liked him face down. The others couldn't stand to look at his deformed face and were happy enough with the sound of him whimpering and tugging on his long hair pretending that it was a woman. They always gripped him hard and long. 

Ramsay absolutely adored watching his face as he did what he did. He appreciated every single movement every little wrinkle of fear, every delicious salted tear he shed was a victory within his mind. Ramsay stroked Theon’s wet cheeks as gently as he could and smiled down as if he was his lover. Perhaps in his mind this had been the idea of a romantic rendezvous however, maybe he thought he had deliberately run so that he could treat him to his favourite type of public humiliation. 

Ramsay was clearly going full Force not caring. Theon was giving him that face that he wanted, the one which let him know he was completely in control. Giving Ramsay control over the situation made him satisfied and the quicker he got satisfied the quicker he would cum and be done with him, tossed aside like a whore. At least whores would get paid by the end of the exhausting efforts.

Thankfully it seemed that Ramsay was the last one. Saving the best for last in his opinion. Ramsay didn’t get up immediately. He lingered on top of him for a little while longer. Under no circumstances that this could be better for him. This was the lowest point for him. 

Once he had been a son of Balon, A proud and pompous ward of the North was now being fucked beneath the castle of Winterfell where the dead were meant to be sleeping. 

By the time they had finished up he was completely still. They were fixing their belt and wiping the sweat from off their brows. They were evidently pleased with what they had done. 

Ramsay still refused to put on his shirt. If he had something to smoke then surely he would have been doing it to reward himself for what was surely a successful hunt. 

Theon was naked, bleeding and covered in bruises. His back was killing him internally and externally. he wouldn't die he could tell when he was on the brink of death as the maester would always he has his side with his concoctions and his herbs to bring him back to the land of the living.

He felt a certain amount of sympathy for the maester. having to work for the Bolton’s must have been a laborious task especially considering when Ramsay wanted to play with someone but for one reason or another he had to keep them alive.

Wolkan was a gentle soul. How a man like him came to serve for the Bolton's he would never know. Wolkan never talked with Theon much but from what he could tell he was absolutely by appalled all the violence and bloodshed. Theon had tried begging for help in the beginning, even pleading and grovelling, alas he came to understand that Maesters lived by a code of honour. To serve their houses and do as they command. He could understand not wanting to disobey the Bolton’s. 

It seems such a trivial thing now but he never truly thanked him for all he did. In this moment he declared if he found himself alive at the end of this that he would do all he could to make his life better. If he still had his power then he would have probably granted him a lordship.

The man was tenderly sewing up his back. The injuries weren’t life threatening but he would be sleeping on his side for quite a while to come. Theon felt the needle and thread go in but he didn’t wince. He was far too tired for anything at all. What were a few smaller holes in his back. 

Wolkan looked down to check his breathing. To the Maesters relief his chest began to rise and fall, albeit shallow and far too slow for his liking he continued to work, slowly giving him water and wine as he went along. No milk of the poppy this time. 

“I’m sorry. I cannot give you any help. The master forbade it.” Wolkan said.

“Hmmm...Deserve it. Was stupid. Never again. No. No. No. Stupid Reek. Reek, Reek rhymes with freak. Sneak. Weak.” The last stung him to say. He had been so close but he had to accept that he would never escape. He would never be capable of outsmarting the master. 

Wolkan was still but then focused on his work. No medicine in the world would have been able to fix him now. This had been the straw that had broken the camel's back. A maester of only years of experience would be able to save him now. If he could be saved at all. His mind seemed far gone. He would need a truly shocking event in his life to bring him back to normal. 

The shell of a man was laying there motionless on the ground. This was the lowest depths of the seven hells. A hell from which he could not escape. 

Reek had to survive. 

Reek. 

Reek.

Reek.

-  
Theon, not Reek, came back into reality. He wasn’t in Winterfell with the damp smell of the crypts, the blue winter roses or the blood seeping from his back. And his back was no longer opened and exposed, saturated with his own blood. It was covered over with other skin and was healing quickly. Theon looked to Ramsay down on the bed and his heart rate only got faster than it had been before. He could feel it pounding against his ribcage. The sweat already forming around his body. 

He was back with the real Ramsay Bolton who had seen him spacing out for what was only a minute. Ramsay had just been looking on in silence observing him as his face seemed to be glazed over while he was spacing out. He was deep in thought about something. Ramsay was glad that he seemed to be back into the room so he could begin his line of questioning. 

It was just how Ramsay pictured it. Him and his victim alone in a tent. 

Dread overcame Theon like nothing he had ever felt before. 

He couldn’t help but feel they were about to play a game.

A very special game indeed.


	12. Hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The showdown between Greyjoy and Bolton.

Theon was holding his breath for what seemed like days to him. He couldn’t do this. Facing Ramsay in one lifetime was enough for him but doing it again was something he wanted to avoid any way that he possibly could. It was all too much. 

His mind felt like it had been stuck in the past for a long time. In reality it had only been a couple of seconds but it was still long enough for him to be frozen in fear. The memory so vivid. Ramsey was capable of doing things in short spaces of time. Seconds all of which were capable of scaring him for life. This body had already been injured enough during this life alone and he didn't want it to be happening again.

“Get out.” Theon had no interest in seeing Ramsay Bolton’s face for another moment longer then he needed too. He spat it with ferocity. This would be the last time he would see Ramsay like this. Ramsay had an unusual expression on his face. He was trying to put on a genuine smile. Whenever Ramsey was putting a blade to his skin he could always tell that that smirk was something of pure delight. This seems like he was faking it. Why would he be faking it?

Then it dawned upon him as he realised that this version of Ramsay had never met him before in his life. This night was their first meeting. Any version of Ramsay with bound to be pure evil no question about it. Ramsay noticed the agitation within Theon's body language. It was what he expected after all. Seeing a stranger in his tent must have been quite a shocking site. Especially a gremlin like himself. 

Ramsay moved forwards to him but Theon was having none of it. 

If Ramsey wanted to get close to him it would end up with him in pain or having parts of him peeled away.

“But I rode from far away just to meet you?” Ramsay’s blocky body blocked the way from the one and only exit. Ramsay’s body almost tensed in an erotic way thanks to the fear he could see the other man omitting. Ramsay had grown accustomed to facial expressions and he knew what fear looked like, even if they were stone faced he could pick up on the smallest of mouth twitches. The beginning of sweat forming. 

“I don’t care. Get out.” He repeated, stronger yet quicker. Ramsay wasn’t going to be deterred by a couple of words. It only fuelled him to stay even more. 

The fire, while dwindling in Theon, was burning brighter in Ramsay. He’d never done anything like this before. To have someone on his manipulation level. 

“Oh come now.” His voice was going over the edge of being pleasant and was now verging on psychopathic. His eyes were still unblinking. 

His voice was doing that thing he hated. The one where it was a sickly sweet that made him want to vomit. It would be like honey to everyone else but to Theon it was a deathly poison and he wanted it out. 

“Get out. Get out. Get out.” Theon was having a minor melt down. He was alone with Ramsay and only terrible things happened when those were the circumstances. Robb was gone and he knew no one else would be coming to save him so this time he’d have to fend of Ramsay all on his own. Something he never wanted to do again. 

Ramsay wasn’t used to such behaviour. Only from maids whom he walked in on undressing for their beds. Though he was a northern lord Ramsay couldn’t help but think of him as a lower being. He wanted to make him a toy. His father would probably forbid him from doing so but playing a little game was sure to be okay. Then again there had been a hint of disgust in his father’s voice when he had been talking about him. Maybe hurting the squid would make father proud. 

He was an annoyance so perhaps his father would provide a valid excuse for him. After all the ride provided him with not enough fun. Sure there was Winterfell but that was different.

“How about we play a little game then I leave? Okay.” Ramsay knew what he was doing. He was still trying to play sweetly. It was terrifying. One moment he was the perfect lord, perhaps someone Sansa might have dreamed of but then the next moment he’d be the most terrifying man alive. 

Theon grabbed a knife from a bedside table and held it in his hand. He was nowhere near ready to point it at Ramsay but he wanted it to hopefully put Ramsay off him and dismay him from coming any closer then he already was. “I’m not playing anymore of your games.”

With the cold air coming in Ramsay ran his tongue over his dried out lips, patting down the thin white skin that was partially flaking away. His lips weren’t the only thing that was becoming moist in that moment. He came closer to Theon and almost made him lose his grip on the knife. It nearly slipped but this only made him reaffirm his grip. 

“You’ve never played before.” He whispered just loud enough for Theon to hear it and for him to drop the knife on the ground. In that moment of fear Theon figured that this whole situation had been figured out. No. He then rationed to himself that it wasn’t possible.

“Alright then. Let’s play.” The two stared at each other. Ramsay with content that he was getting to play his game and Theon finally facing one of his worst fears head on. He couldn’t act like reek. Theon wondered what game it would be. Perhaps it would be the one where he would have to make Ramsay smile or maybe he wouldn’t have. 

“What’s the game?” He finally asked as he took a seat on the makeshift mattress.

Ramsay, though incredibly set on playing a game, had not actually taken the time to consider what type of game it was that he wanted to play. He just knew that he wanted to torment him in whatever way that he could. Perhaps he could do a hunt with Theon, it had been forever since he had had a good Hunt but if he knew his father then he knew that he would do something entirely horrible to him for putting a lord through a Hunt, even if that so called lord was a pain in the ass. 

After a single moment he came up with the perfect idea

“Who am I?” He decided in a split second. His games had been boring recently. All he really had to play with was the lower downs and the low born but this time he could play with a lord of sorts. Yes his name and title had been stripped away from him but that didn’t matter. He still held power and Ramsay was going to exploit that as much as he could.

Theon gagged a little bit in his mouth but then made it seem like a laughing fit that had erupted into him coughing. Ramsay folded his arms, clearly unimpressed with this display. Theon didn’t think that it would have worked for someone with as sharp as senses as him but it seemed like it had worked with him. Ramsay wasn’t impressed when someone mocked his game but if he was laughing there must have been a reason behind it. There just had to be. 

When Theon faked his recovery Ramsay seemed to be pouring a glass of water. When Ramsay tried to push it towards his lips his reflexes were about to kick in and he was about to knock it away for fear of it being some horrible concoction such as goat’s piss and sweat or something worse.   
Then again it could have been just water but Theon knew just how well his master enjoyed getting his playthings intoxicated to see how they would react to what he was doing to them. More importantly how they acted around him. If they said things they shouldn’t have or if they did actions that pleased him greatly.

“What’s so funny?” Ramsay’s eyes turned that dangerous colour. The colour when they were lighting up with something. Deep veiny ice. The blue of winter. Whether or not it was rage depended on how Theon answered. His words would have to be chosen carefully or they could be the last things that leave his lips. A couple of murmured words came out before he could say anything that resembled the language of Westeros.

“I just wonder who you could be. You could be a jester simply sent to amuse me or the son of a lord from the south. I don’t know but I’m eager to find out.” Theon was a little bit of a good manipulator himself and even managed to see Ramsay’s expression change. Now there was curiosity in him. Curiosity to see where this would go and how it would end up.

And so the game began.

Theon circled around Ramsay to make it seem he was checking out his entire body. Ramsay noted that this was a certain behaviour that he would do to people he was talking to. Theon’s eyes also remained open except for the occasional moment they would physically have to blink to keep the dust out of his eyes. Other than that he never broke contact with him. Ramsay liked him already. 

Ramsay now had a full curiosity.

The first question. 

“Are you an Umber?” Theon guessed remembering that previously it had been among one of his first and wrong guesses. In the past Ramsay had begun to carve the top of his little finger at this point. If it had still remained on his hand he was sure that he would have felt it and felt the pain. Theon rubbed it again. Imaginary blood dripping a crimson red. 

“Do I look like a fucking umber to you?” Ramsay replied word perfectly as he had done in the past. Ramsay looked down at Theon’s hand and saw the bandages around it. He licked his lips at the thought of the wound. Rumours had flown around about the Greyjoy. How he was horrible to look at, how deformed his father had made him. Ramsay could have done better. He knew he could do better. So raw and tender. So…Perfect. 

“Are you from the North?” A general question. He might as well start from the very beginning and take it slowly from there. No point ruining the surprise of him knowing beforehand. He could see a little bit of fun in drawing it out knowing that for the first time Ramsay would be the one who was one the ropes instead of it being him who was kept in the dark. Theon’s face was showing his power. 

Ramsay was doing that thing he did from the first time around. Where he acted like Theon had asked a question where he would have to answer honestly. Theon sort of felt a bit idiotic that he didn't pick up on it the first time around. Now he knew better. 

“Oh come on! That’s too vague. Say a specific part!” 

“Do you come from the Bear Islands? You seem like a...Strong-Strong…man.” He forced out. 

Ramsay smirked. His ego was being stroked and he didn’t mind one bit. Theon felt the cooling relief breezing over his mind. The wind was beginning to pick up outside even more than it had before. They could see the tent moving more and more as each second passed. Ramsay gave him a wink. Was he winking? He didn’t think he’d ever seen him do it before in his life. Truly the most terrifying moment. 

“You didn’t see who I arrived with did you?” Ramsay had said it the exact same way that he had the first time. 

“No” He said, his head shaking accordingly. Theon snorted at him. How dare such a low born boy accuse someone so high up of doing such a thing? 

“Yes. I am from the North. Home. Not the bear islands however.” He managed to sound so disappointed whenever he slumped down in fictitious defeat. Ramsay was just leaving him little breadcrumbs. He took such pleasure and having knowledge and power over someone else. Oh how little did he know that the tables were about the turn.

“Are you a high born or a low born?” 

He knew this question would get to him in particular. It would piss him off something firece. He would never have a lord's title but he would be more than a Lower born. 

Ramsay's face turned sour. His eyes darted down to the floor and he licked his teeth begrudgingly. He’d asked two very good questions. Still he wasn't close but he was getting closer and their game was only half way done. 

“I’m a high born I’m just disguising myself in the meantime.” He motioned to his clothes. Theon knew Ramsey was telling him a pack of lies just so he could play this game of his. His cheap rags would fool a lot of people. 

“Ah...Very convincing.” Theon said. 

“What question would you like to ask next your grace?” Ramsay was mocking him. Low-key of course. Theon turned his head to the side. 

Theon pretended that he was interested in finding out who he was. 

“Hmm...You’re eyes? They’re very blue. Are you a part of the Cerwyn family? After all it only seems fitting that your mind is as sharp as blade on the sigil.” Another fake guess. Flirting would throw him off for sure. 

Ramsay blinked his eyes in disbelief. He wasn’t used to being complimented. It was…unusual to say the least. “Flattery...For me? The rumours about you were true weren’t they?”

“Answer the question.” Theon told him sharply. 

“No. I’m not.” An equally sharp response. 

“Okay? What about House Forrester? Their words might suit you. Iron from Ice. Related to the little Lord Ethan.”

“House Forrester? Did you see my banners?”

It all seemed so obvious now that Ramsay was using this as a trick beforehand. How had he been so obvious? The red flags were there but he’d been so stupid as to miss them. They were redder than the blood of the Lannister’s. Perhaps he was focusing too much on the flaying rather than the game. Rookie mistake. 

“No I didn’t.” Theon replied. 

He’d heard all about how Ramsay so bravely stabbed the young little lord through the throat. Poor little Ethan Forrester. Ethan the brave they’d called him. A child. Ramsay murdered a child in cold blood. Theon didn’t like to think about Ramsay’s victims. It brought pain and guilt. Guilt that if he’d just manned up and slit his throat and be done with it. More children dead by him. Always his fault. 

Ramsay was getting fed up at this. He’d eventually keep on guessing Northern Houses until he guessed it correctly. And that, in Ramsay’s mind, was no fun. And what was the point if it didn’t amuse him?

Answering a question about being a bastard he was beginning to dislike this lord. Besides people who weren’t good at his games bored him. Even if it was his intent he had been told this one would be a good person to play with and so far his expectations were lowered beyond what he had planned. At this rate Theon was never going to get the answer. 

“You get one more question.” Ramsay said as he flashed a small knife to Theon showing him he was serious. The knife reflected against the candlelight and he swallowed whatever fear he had felt when Ramsay first came into the tent. Theon’s mouth became that of a lord who had just won his first battle. His thin lips curled up into a victorious smile as he asked the final question.

“Are you a liar?” The words rolled off his tongue like rain water off a leather cloak. Such raw power from such few words. 

Theon remembered the first time he had been flayed all too well. The little game that they had played and how much he had begged for Ramsay to cut his finger off. Now he had the upper hand and he was the one who had cunningly outsmarted Ramsay. It was amazing the rush of adrenaline and power he felt was unmatched to anything he had felt previously before.

Ramsey had assumed the last question would be something stupid so he was already preparing what he was going to say. He had begun to speak but then held his tongue when he realised he didn't say what he was expecting. Ramsay couldn’t believe this. He has been bested at one of his own games. This couldn’t be right. He had cheated. No one else was allowed to win his games and get away with it. Ramsay blinked.

Unless…

His father had been right. 

“What did you just say?” He needed a confirmation about what he had just said to make sure he was hearing him right. Ramsay was putting away the knife for he was far too happy to consider stabbing him now. 

“Are you a liar? Have you been lying about who you are? Have these question been a distraction?” His tone was smug. Theon had completely forgotten the feeling of pure smugness. It felt so good to be back to what he had once been. For once he had power over Ramsay. He had power over his master. Needless to say he was loving it. He would enjoy this second for he could not predict what Ramsay would do next. Ramsay was a sore loser there was no doubt about that, however Theon had delivered the line so perfectly that he couldn’t help feel warm inside. His facing smiling like never before.

Ramsay laughed like a wild boar and he had to hold his stomach for fear of it bursting on him. So his target had ended up getting it right even though he doubted he would. This was beautiful, in fact the only thing that was more beautiful in this moment was Theon’s confused expression. It would only take a matter of seconds for them to find out if his swelling would go down on his own or if he needed some form of ‘relief’. He doubted he would be able to get to a female in time. He was sure he could find a good whore in the camp somewhere. Maybe there was one in front of him. 

“Father wrote that you were good but I’m very, very impressed. I think that you and I could be good friends. Maybe even after the war is over you could come with me on a little hunt.” He declared the certainty in his voice going unchallenged. 

The thought of him actually befriending Ramsay was something he had never considered. At one time maybe he had. Before he knew what he really was. When he had saved him from being tortured in those woods he did truly believe that Ramsay was a good ally. Hell if he had followed through on his promise of safety he really would have made him a Lord of the iron islands and that was a promise. 

“No. I held up my end of the bargain. Now get out.” As much as it was fun watching his torturer be completely fooled by him he had seen enough of him for this lifetime. Ramsay needed to go for his sanity. He was on the cusp of tipping over. 

“I think we should. What’s wrong? You seem paler.” Ramsay was good at picking up on things, those subtle little changes in people. Their eyes when they were lying, their hands when they were nervous and their faces when they were terrified.

Theon was paler then he had been it was true. Ramsay’s mentions of the hunts must have finally gotten the better of him. He had been so in control but that power was slipping away from him. The power had shifted yet again and he was in the lower position. The lowest position he could be in. No blood was in his cheeks for it was rushing to his head.

“Master please.” Theon had already been on an emotional roller coaster and he had seen enough of this. He hadn’t meant for the slip of the tongue to happen it just sort of happened. His hands clasped over his lips and wished he could suck back the words into his mouth. Make them dissipate into the heavy air surrounding them. 

Ramsay’s face froze when he heard what he had called him. His eyes turned from that of confusion to that of lust. He was loving every single moment of this. Another thing had also been confirmed for him, his dick wasn’t going down on its own. The situation was too erotic for him to even think about the consequences of assaulting him. He had called him master without being prompted to. 

“Did you…” Ramsay spoke once. “Did you just call me master?” He said with his hand letting go of the blade of in favour of his hands moving towards his britches. This was too good. 

Those were the words that turned him on.

Theon gasped in surprise, shock and suspense. This should have been the last time in his life he should have been in this situation. He shook his head but Ramsay only came closer. Their bodies were almost touching each other’s and he had to control his breathing. The control that he had previously was all lost in his panic. Drowning yet again He’d forgotten how to swim.

.He began licking those lips which he’d grown disgusted by. 

“I won the game. Now you hold up your end of the deal.” He tried to sound angry. He tried to tell him with the wrath of all seven gods but it didn't deter him in the slightest. When Ramsay was set on doing something then there was no stopping him. The only thing that would stop him now was if his father told him to stop. 

“No, I think since you called me master I get to tell you what to do and I haven’t had any fun in ages, riding on a horse and all that.” Ramsay dropped the sweetness in his voice, replaced by demand. He was asking once. He wouldn’t like to ask again. 

“No fuck off!” Theon was screaming and trying to escape. He fought so hard against him, harder than he had ever fought before in his life. 

Jeyne had been away from the tent. She had needed some alone time for herself. She’d cleared it with Theon beforehand and it had seemed like it was going to be a quiet evening in. Nothing exciting was to happen. 

She opened the curtain and entered. 

“Okay Theon I think that I'm go-” Jeyne saw all of this unfolding. Some random man in brown lowly clothing trying to wrestle him to the bed. She feared it was another assassination attempt but this man was a lot bigger than the one on the boat had been. She knew she couldn’t just let it happen. She ran out and knew exactly what to do. But she couldn’t pull him off either. Mind too clouded by panic. 

Ramsay was tearing at the tunic and Theon was pressed hard against the bed, the blow to his head only being softened by the pillow. Ramsay used his weight to stop him from escaping as he always did. It was a wonder that Theon wasn’t used to this type of treatment. 

He couldn't breathe and Ramsay took full advantage of this to force a wet kiss on his lips. His eyes shot open just as Ramsay had wanted. He could have pushed him off. He was strong enough but mentally there was the fear of being abused further. 

Instead his hand clenched into a claw. His nails may have been bitten short but it would still do a lot of damage. Theon dug into Ramsay cheeks and dragged down, the soft flesh turning red with fresh blood. He went for the eyes next. For such a small lord he did some damage. 

Ramsay recalled in pain. 

“You stupid little whore!” He looked down at the droplets of blood running out of his face. He became red with rage. Ramsay started to punch him in the face. Strike after strike becoming more and more animalistic. It was nothing short of a miracle that Theon didn’t receive a bruise as a result. All thoughts of sex leaving him replaced with anger. 

Reek was awoken with in him and he was slowly beginning to stop the struggle in favour of soft whimpering and pray Ramsay go easy on him. Theon was still fighting tooth and claw but Reek was too strong only beginning to cry knowing it was what Ramsay liked to see most from him. When Theon let the tears roll down Ramsay stopped with the aggression and slowly his punches became fewer and fewer. He could see that he had bested his prey and now he could enjoy the rest of it. 

The assault continued until a blast of cold air entered the tent. Theon’s eyes were still focused upon the cloth roof above their head. It wasn’t until a growl was heard that he was able to bring the reality around him back. He was too shaken to turn. 

Ramsay’s entire body turned to see the source and before Theon knew it the weight was taken off of him. Or at least it had been eased a little bit. He finally was able to inhale a deep breath through all of his crying and panicking. 

Robb was looking horrified down at the pair while Greywind was seconds away from ripping the Bolton bastard apart. His long teeth were bared, ready to rip the intruder into pieces. Ramsay went to move again but Greywind snarled to keep him right where he was. He could sense he was a bad man. 

Theon’s clothes were ruffled and the Bolton was almost undressed. Robb could tell what was going on and he decided to stop it immediately. Theon’s face was flushed and filled with panic. It was clear what had happened here wasn't consensual. His eyes were vacant looking.

His face turned from horrified confusion to a rage that came deep from within his very soul. His eyes burning with rage as dark as his hair. As dark as the bleakest winter night. 

“What is going on here?” Of course he knew what was going on but he couldn’t know why such a low born bastard would dare to lay a hand on someone with a higher status. This was their first time meeting before in their lives. Perhaps it was been a random act of violence. 

“Lord Theon and I were just wrestling. Weren’t we? Old friends me and him.” Ramsay was up of his victim in a second and was grabbing his cheeks rather tightly together. Ramsay was telling him to comply instead of facing the consequence. He was acting totally innocent and if it hadn't been for the expression on Theon’s face Robb might have believed him.

Theon took this moment of Ramsay’s distraction to push him off. Ramsay fell to the floor smacking his head of the ground. Theon rubbed a hand through his hair and tried to calm himself but his breathing was fast, his nose running and his vision blurred. He was gross and sickly. 

Robb beckoned for the two guards from behind him to get Ramsay away from them. “Please escort him to his tent. He is tired from his travels.” 

The moment they pulled Ramsay off the floor Theon was already putting his clothes back together. His moves were panicked and he looked about for everything. He put on his trousers backwards and when Robb tried to correct him in the matter he didn’t hear. He was much too busy distracting himself with looking for his shoes. Anything to cover himself.

The attention was turned to Theon.

“Theon are you alright?”

He didn’t respond. Robb tried again only to be met with the same response. 

Theon’s next few words were harmful to Robb. Theon was breathless. Between Robb’s sudden bursting in and seeing Ramsay about to attack him again he was having trouble processing. The oxygen burned in his lungs. Robb touched his shoulder but this only seemed to make things worse for him. 

“Both of you out.” Theon was emotional run down to his limit and he didn’t care who it was that was there he simply needed privacy. It was a harsh whisper but all heard it. 

“Theon-” Robb tried to calm him down with words but the lord wasn’t hearing any of it. 

“Don’t follow me and make sure Ramsay Snow stays in the camp.” He was looking around for more things. He didn't need anything else he just didn’t want anyone to look at him. Or anyone he had to look at. 

“Theon please calm down. I know the attack was un-” Robb was only trying to help his distressed friend. He didn't expect to be paid back with such a seriousness.

“FUCK OFF ROBB. FUCK OFF RAMSAY JUST ALL OF YOU FUCK OFF FUCKING SHIT. GODS.” Theon yelled at Robb and he was visibly taken aback by all of this. His hands shot down by his sides while doing this. Both men stood back. Theon was about to explode. 

Ramsay burst into an uproar of laughter. He knew who he was. Theon was the most fun he’d properly had in ages and he was definitely going to have to try and find him again.

Theon had tears beginning to form in his eyes when he yelling at Robb.

Theon turned to Ramsay’s laughter. 

He grabbed him by a fistful of his hair. He slammed Ramsay’s head down on the side table. There was a grunt of pain. With Ramsay’s hands bound he was powerless to stop anything that was about to happen. He deserved it. 

This smug bastard would cause so much pain to people. Pain to people who he loved, pain to people who didn't deserve it. He had murdered Rickon in cold blood, caused Maester Luwin’s death and worst of all he had taken Sansa’s last piece of innocence . Each punch he threw was for all of them. A small piece of justice for all of them. 

Ramsay was still laughing through the pain. He was enjoying all of this. This was all just a part of the game to him. Another strike and a tooth came flying from out the side of his mouth along with a dribble of blood and saliva. It fell onto the dirty ground. Ramsay was beginning to get mad again but with Robb here he was aware he would have to keep up his appearance for his father. 

He glared up to Theon. He’d get him somehow some way. This may have been entertaining but nobody touched him without suffering some form of consequence. This ex kraken would suffer. Then they could go on a hunt together. 

Robb reached out his hand to stop him. Theon rejected it in favour of running out of the tent like an animal escaping from a trap. He didn’t need to be touched right now. He didn’t need anyone. All he needed was somewhere he could be alone. 

He ran but Robb didn’t follow him. As much as he wanted to his piercing gaze was turned towards Ramsay instead. The person who did this would have to pay first. 

“What did you do to him?” Robb barked at Ramsay. It didn't take a genius to figure out that something else had happened besides the obvious attack. 

“Nothing. We were going to have a bit of fun. He’s a known warrior after all. What’s wrong with a little rough housing?” Ramsey was nonchalant about it. In his mind he had seen that Theon was playing with him just as much as he was and since he talked about hunting he had made the assumption that they were the exact same so he should have appreciated their little endgame.

“Did he want to have fun?” Robb said as he began to reach boiling point. The words of Ramses escapades had briefly reached his ears he never assumed that any of that stuff was actually true. Every time he'd heard Ramsay doing something horrible he always thought it was exaggeration. 

“What does it matter? He’s just your hostage. Surely you’ve fought him before. Fucked him even.” Ramsay said smiling. In his twisted youth he'd always assumed that when lords were granted of hostage they'll be able to do whatever they liked with them. Ramsay was somewhat disappointed that Roose never got a hostage growing up. Oh the fun he would have had with Ramsay. 

At the insinuation of him doing such a thing Robb was tempted to turn a knife on him right there right now. Instead he settled on a simple punch to the face.

“I should have you beheaded for this! Attempted assault of a lord of the Iron Islands.” Robb couldn’t believe how casual he was being about this.

“Well last I heard he rebuked his family title. He’s nothing more than a peasant now. Even I have more of a status then him.” Suddenly the appeal of trying to get into his trousers lost its appeal. Technically speaking it hadn't been anyone powerful at all just another commoner who happened to be the son of someone important. His father was going to be very displeased but this was how things worked out.

Maybe when he had an official title by Robb’s side then maybe he would have considered doing something along these lines but for now he would take his leave before Robb Stark decided that he wanted to try something in retort for his best friends attack.

“When I become king in the North I shall give him the Iron Island from his father.” Robb told him

Ramsay knew for real this time Robb Stark was an idiot. Did he really think that simply giving land to Theon would make him a good ruler? He wiped away more of the blood that came out from his mouth and laughed. 

“You think the Iron Born will take him? I don’t think so. He’s a turn cloak to his own people. I know a thing or two about being unwanted.” He made his remark and while Robb was about to go to Theon’s defence he realized what he had said. There was a valid point hidden within his words.

Robb knew that the Snow was right. The iron born would never truly accept Theon as their ruler after what he did. Sure they knew he was loyal it was just to the wrong family. After rejecting his father he’d effectively screwed himself over. When he was speaking through his heart he found it difficult to speak through his brain.

Robb shook his head to clear his mind. They’d been pulled away from the original conversation. 

“We are missing the point. You are to return to the Dreadfort at once. Since you helped with taking Winterfell back I shall forgive you once and only once. If you ever try anything like that again with Theon your head will rest on a spike for the crows to pick at as they see fit.” It was fair and thought through. He knew it was what his mother would do in this situation. As much as he hated to let him go he was the son of one of their powerful allies and an execution could cause Roose to march back up home and then the war would truly be lost.

Ramsay was pleased at the outcome despite his fun being interrupted before it had even begun. The toothy smirk on his face showed it. A shiver crept down Robb’s spine as he left with heavy footsteps. He would have liked to have smelt wine on his clothes so he could write it off as simply him being blind drunk out of his senses but his seemed too clean for that. He was clean shaved too. He knew exactly what he was doing. 

He was a terrifying man and he would want him only near him if they captured an enemy spy that they needed information extracted from. Bolton’s were known for their violence towards their enemies and as long as they all remained on the same side then they would be okay. 

“I suppose so. My pet needs to be broken in. From Winterfell. Before it was burnt to a crisp.” He stated casually. Something about the way he talked wasn’t natural. It didn’t make sense. He can see why Roose refused to talk about him. 

God those eyes. They were like Roose’s but something deeper behind them. Locked deep within like gold in a chest. 

“Pet?” He repeated hoping it would make sense a second time hearing it. It did but the implications were even grimmer. The word left a sour feeling on his tongue. He got the strong indication that somehow he wasn't talking about a dog. Everything about this man simply made Robb feel a sense of dread. He had seen enough of the Bolton’s face for one night and sent him away. He may have been a king but he felt drained of power. 

Ramsay left without bothering to answer his question despite Robb very clearly asking him.

Robb ran outside once Ramsay was out and looked around for where Theon could have run off too. He didn’t understand where he would have gone. He could have been anywhere. He must have made good time seeing the fresh footprints on the ground. 

He needed to find Theon. Something deep inside him was telling him he had to comfort his friend in this time of need. 

Theon wouldn’t appreciate just simply anyone finding him so he set off to find him on his own. 

The search for Theon began. 

-


	13. The Lake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robb and Theon talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bet you thought you'd have to wait longer for this chap. Sike, Y'all getting it now. Jk finally got it up. Fluff at long last! Enjoy.

The water was quiet. Theon liked it that way. It was the night so everything was quiet save for the nocturnal animals who were scuffling about in the trees. No people speaking or yelling. His mind was at rest. 

Theon had found a quiet pond where he could sit and be alone. The memories were attacking his mind but at least here he could think through them properly. It must have been a couple of hours as he could hear Robb calling out for him in the distance. Robb called after him not as a king but as a concerned friend. The poor lad must have been traumatized by this afternoons events.

Jeyne had asked if he would like the company but he had declined it. She completely understood but without his knowledge she always remained near. She knew that if he were to take a panic attack in the woods he would need help recovering. And sometimes recovering meant leaving them alone to think. Not isolate them but give them a good amount of space. 

Robb had been trapped within the woods for some time now. He’d looked around every clearing that he knew about yet he still couldn’t seem to find where Theon had gotten too. He was beginning to feel like it was completely hopeless. The winds were picking up and last he’d seen Theon he hadn’t even taken a bloody cloak with him to keep him warm. Robb shook his head thinking how cold he must have been. If he could get him back to the camp he would get a nice hot meal prepared for him. 

As soon as he heard Robb's voice Theon was tempted to just leave and find another spot where he could have longer to calm himself down. 

This was one of the few times Theon just wanted Robb to fuck off and not bother him until he was feeling better but he supposed there wasn’t much point in sending him away for a second time. He had already come all the way out here just for him. He supposed it would be ungrateful to send him back. 

Then again instead of just venting to the open water he could do it with an actual person. Might be nice to get a comforting response instead of just silence. He let Robb find him in the quiet place. 

Robb could see how ragged his brother in arms was looking. His hair was still a mess, his clothes were a little bit better but still he hadn’t taken much care to get himself sorted out properly. 

Robb rubbed his throat. He had just yelled at Roose for allowing his barbaric son to attempt such horrific things on the Lord. Roose had personally taken it upon himself to see that his son was sorted out. Bruce had been Furious with Ramsey, he couldn't believe that his son would be so stupid as to try something like that. Roose had only expected that he would scare the Greyjoy into complying not Ramsay trying to turn him into one of his toys. Before Ramsay left the camp he had received a harsh slap to the face. 

“I’m fine Robb. Go back the men need you.” He said flatly. No sadness. No fear. Just nothing. He didn't want to see Robb but if he knew him then he wouldn't leave without good reason. Robb came closer but he still kept a little bit of a distance. He didn't know how Theon was coping in this moment.

“You are one of my men and you need me.” He responded. 

Theon looked at his face. Robb could see the blackened bags beginning to form underneath his eyes. There was also a considerable amount of blood shot to be shown. He looked older than he ever did before and that was saying a lot.

“I don’t. I’m doing fine.” He’d gotten over things before and he’d get over them again. Try his best to forget and move on.

He was the furthest thing from fine but he would tell Robb he was doing fine if it meant he didn’t have to worry about him. 

Robb hated people who lied to him but in this one exception he could understand. He wanted to seem stronger than he was, a trick commonly played by him. “You were attacked in your own tent. If you say the word I will have Ramsay Snow-!” Robb was fierce to protect his best friend but it really wasn't needed. 

Snow.

He would never have dared to call Ramsay that before.

“I appreciate it. Really I do but let him go.” It sickened him having to say this. He wanted nothing more than for Robb to behead him and have it done with. Having Ramsay’s hands on him had brought up memories he had almost forgotten. The smell of the flowers, the blood of the dogs were all too much. Robb turned to see Theon as if he were mad but it was clearly upsetting him having to do this. He remained silent but put a hand reassuringly on his shoulder.

Theon skipped a stone against the water. It bounced a couple of times before sinking into the depths of the water. He had been thinking about what happened. Or rather what didn’t happen? Robb couldn’t have known in any way to come to his tent. They had said their goodbyes for the evening so something else must have happened. 

“How did you know? To come into the tent I mean. You must have been in the war room or something.” He faced the way from Robb while saying this. It seemed odd but he would just randomly decide to check up on Theon despite having seen each other all day. 

Robb chuckled. “That’s the thing. I was in the war tent until the oddest thing happened. On the war map your Greyjoy figurine fell over at the same time while the others stayed up. I thought I’d come in and check on you. It’s a good thing I did.” Robb was finding it all a little bit suspicious but he supposed it was just the god’s way of telling him that his friend was in danger. The gods had saved his best friend in a way yet again. 

Theon could guess what had really happened with the figurines. He would have to keep in mind to thank his guardian angel later for saving him. Jeyne had gone out for a walk so she must have come back in the nick of time. He smiled and Robb perked up seeing the slight improvement. 

“When I am King in the North that type of behaviour will be punishable by death.” Robb told him. He despised people like Ramsay Bolton, those who are savage in nature for no reason other than it brought them pleasure. This crime in particular just made him uneasy. The worst part was not that the Crime would occur but rather if he hadn't come to the tent then there is not a doubt that Theon would have remained silent about the whole encounter. He would just be living with what had happened and keep it completely to himself. Robb would keep on going about his daily business while he was suffering. 

“Would you have told me?” The air was made thin. 

“Told you what?” He made a face that would make him seem naive. As if he had no idea about what Robb was implying. 

“If I hadn't walked along. If he’d proceeded too…” He couldn’t finish his sentence. The thought so dire.

A sigh. 

Theon said grimly. “I wouldn’t want to cause trouble.” 

Robb groaned. He loved Theon but he really had to stop with the persistent lying. It filled his heart with dread and sorrow that his friend didn’t trust him entirely. He understood there was shame in Theon’s mind but he could clearly see no shame in this. It wasn't his fault someone else tried to harm him. 

Theon shuddered unconsciously and Robb knew he’d probably be better to leave any more questions until a time that he seemed more comfortable. The attack was the last thing he wanted to think about so it was on to him to change the subject. 

“Do you think I’m wrong? For liking men more than women. I like both just fine. I don’t mind sharing my bed with either. Why am I repeating myself? You know this already.” Words just kept on coming out of his mouth. He was mumbling. Filler for the words he could not say. He shook it off.

Theon often found repeating things made it easier for distractions. Like if he repeated the Reek mantra over in his head then he would let his mind go back to what was a simpler time for him in terms of thinking. Reek had the advantage of only having to think about one thing and that was pleasing his master but since he was with the master no longer he could sink into a blissful nothingness, like the salt water crashing against the cliffs of Pyke on a stormy morning in the winter.

Robb answered him in a split second. 

“I’m not sure I’m one for that type of behaviour myself. I never really experimented before but if it makes you happy I will promise that you can have the finest lord or lady in the land to yourself and you won’t have to worry about any bastards like that Snow trying to come at you. If they do they’ll be executed on the spot.” Theon wanted to cry even more. Robb was such a good friend to him.

That’s all he would ever be. A good friend.

Well even though they could never truly be together Theon would do everything in his power to be a best friend to Robb.

When he had been saved that first day from the gang of riders he thought that Ramsay was to be his right hand man from that moment onwards. Theon looked out into the woods. He remembered where Ramsay had saved him there once. He didn’t think much of kindness. The only one who had been kind to him had been Sansa when she had been Ramsay’s bride. 

Robb could see that Theon was still trying to think things over in his head and him being here, keeping his mind distracted wasn't going to make him come back any sooner. No one could say that he hadn't tried at least. His eyes were still like stained glass. 

“Please do come back soon. “He done all he could to make sure Theon was doing okay in his head. The sooner he got back the better they would both feel. His mind must have been a fascinating place. 

Robb knew what he was doing 

“I just need a couple of minutes. Still shaking.” Theon’s hands were shaking. Robb enclosed Theon’s hands to stop them from moving. Theon wanted so badly to look into Robb’s eyes and know that everything was going to be okay from now on but he couldn’t do it. Not now. Things weren’t going to be okay for him the next couple of days.

“Are you afraid?” Robb asked him despite still seeing the searing fear in his eyes. 

His breathing was getting hotter. It warmed his heart to see him so concerned about him. Ramsay had told him no one cared but those words came from a blackened pitch forked tongue. 

“Yes.” He wasn’t aware he was even speaking was for being so caught up in the moment. 

“Good...It means you’re not stupid.” A call back. To the words that he had said to him long ago when Robb first heard about his father's capture. Theon was overwhelmed again but this time it wasn’t negative. He smiled was like a small twitch rather than an emotion. He wasn't about to burst out crying again but he was tired. Really, really tired. 

His head rested on Robb’s shoulder. Robb didn’t know how to deal with the sudden motion so he remained still. He was exhausted but Robb was like a warm fireplace. He was so inviting, a comfort to be enjoyed. His long hair flopped down onto the rest of his face. He was hiding yet again. He moved closer and their bodies were the closest they’d ever been before in his life. He could feel his muscles. 

Robb moved his head much to Theon’s dismay. The mood had been so perfect. He’d been so close to kissing him. Their lips had been practically a fingers length apart yet he couldn’t bring himself to do one simple thing. All he had to do was move forwards and it was done. His insides felt rotten. He was a coward yet again. He’d given up something he wanted.   
It wasn't on purpose of course, just because Robb was being thoughtful. He wanted to give Theon more air to breathe. His kindness ruined it for him. 

“I punched him after you left you know.” Robb looked down at him. 

“Huh?” He made a small noise before moving his head gently again to look Robb in the eyes. 

“I punched him in his stupid face. Should have done it more. He is an odd one. Something about him is just...Off.” Theon hid his small laugh. He wished for anything that he could see Ramsay’s face now. All bloodied and bruised. Roose would have done a number on him. Though initially Ramsay’s punches didn’t seem to have done anything in the beginning Theon had a mark just on the side of his cheek. Turning blue. 

 

A moment passed. As much as Theon loved hearing about Ramsay in pain he didn’t want his stupid face in his mind at this moment. He only wanted to look at Robb. Enjoy this moment they had together. 

“Can we not...talk about it?”

Robb understood in a heartbeat. He was more than happy to forget Ramsay now. Hell he’d wear a smile the rest of his life if it meant not having to see that bastard again. 

“Of course.”

Robb could see Theon uncomfortable again and came closer to him as they had been before. Theon began resting again.

“Do you want out?”

“Out of what?”

“The war. It’s done too much to you. Too much for my mind to bare. I’ve been responsible for all of this.” Robb couldn’t contain his feelings anymore. He hated that so many people were suffering because of him. Because of his family. He wondered if this was all worth it sometimes. 

“Just...Do you think...I’ll be able to find love? Nothing like Ramsay.

This was a hint he was trying to drop to Robb. He scoured his face for any sign that he was getting at the point he was trying to make. 

“You deserve it. You need all the love in the world.” Robb meant that from the bottom of his heart. His friend had been brutalised but just because he was mildly deformed didn’t mean he didn’t deserve love. He was a braver soldier then anyone in Winterfell who would have betrayed Robb at the first sign of danger.

Deep down he knew something else was going on. He didn’t know what this feeling was. He’d always seen him in a brotherly way but this was the first time he was considering something more. Maybe now he was so close to losing him again he saw something he hadn't before. He could have kissed Theon. Just a peck on the cheek. Nothing more. He could have seen whether or not his feelings were right but it wouldn’t be good for him.

He couldn't kiss him. Not after Ramsay had just tried to do that unmentionable thing to him. It would be dishonourable. Maybe later on he could talk with him more about this feelings. They were unclear at the moment. He had been raised to marry and bed girls all his life but this was the first time he’d felt something for someone who was a man. It was confusing at the moment but he was sure after a good night sleep the answer would be clearer in the morning. 

Robb backed away to see if his words of comfort helped Theon out of this pit of blackness he was drowning in. Theon was still smiling but he still needed time. A moment to get over the shock and the disappointment. 

Sad he hadn’t been able to convince his friend to come back he walked back on his own. He walked back to camp he had a goal in mind. Give Roose Bolton another yelling of a lifetime for allowing his son to do what he did. The Bolton’s were cruel in their nature but surely they were able to respect the Greyjoy as an Ally. 

If Ramsay had scared Robb he hated to see what his father would do to him. Hopefully it would be enough to make him learn his lesson. 

Theon gave a small nod to Robb before he left letting him know that truly he was going to be okay even if he was still very shaken by the whole experience. 

When Robb was out of earshot Jeyne made herself known to the ex-prince of Pyke. Jeyne was hovering worryingly behind him. That had been brutal to watch. Jeyne gently came closer.

“I know you're there Jeyne. You have been that entire conversation.” He spoke. It was like an ability he had picked up to sense when other people were in the room. Maybe it was a Survival Skill or maybe it was just something he'd picked up on randomly but the former seemed the most likely.

“Are you okay?” she asked him coming face to face with him. She’d been hiding out in the bushes, she didn’t want to interrupt their big moment. 

“He came too close.” Theon spoke looking over the clear unmoving water. He knew that it was the closest of calls. Ramsay would have happily done a variety of horrible things to him if it hadn’t been for her divine intervention.

“He was going to rape you.” It seemed a bit of a blunt statement to be making however it needed to be spoken. If not it would have just remained the elephant in the room which they would just ignore but always know it was there. She was clearly horrified and needed to make sure he was doing ok. She knew rightly if it had been her she would have been shaking and grabbing onto Theon for dear life.

Theon remained silent. It felt weird to hear that word. People always referred to it as fucking regardless if they were consenting or not. Only high up ladies attacked by common people were referred to as being raped. Even when he had told Yara she had responded by saying she was sorry that Ramsey fucked him along with the other boys. Overtime Yara could see that maybe it did traumatise him the same way high born ladies got traumatised. She didn’t bring herself to say anything but she had that look in her eyes. The one that said that she regretted what had happened. 

“I know that feeling.” Jeyne had that look in her eyes. The look that they both knew too well.

The stuttering began and he began his lament. “I was so helpless. I tried fighting back at first but there was never any point. All I got in return was more beatings and flaying’s. I just gave in eventually. Reek was easier than being Theon. Theon was a turn cloak who killed two innocent boys. Reek was just a servant at the Dreadfort and nothing more. Lower than a worm.”

“Are you Reek now?”

This was the question that Jeyne feared most. She had seen her Theon when he had been in his Reek like state and it was never a pretty sight. Although she had noticed the difference. Though her Theon had more physical damage done the Theon before her was ruined psychologically. The body could be repaired but the mind was a different matter. Not even the highest of Maesters could predict what was wrong with him or could even cure him of his ailment. 

Theon couldn’t answer. The incident with Ramsay had left him paralysed with fear. Reek had managed to slither back into his mind and take over completely. Theon had come back to his sense only a couple of moments after Robb had come into the tent.

He didn’t answer her instead opting to look at the water. He almost didn’t recognise the reflection. Sometimes he was Reek and sometimes he was Theon. His mind was a mess of thorns and knifes. Anything sharp was stabbing him, no, hacking at him. Whittling away until bone could be seen through the wound. Enough to harm but never to kill. He wouldn’t risk killing him. 

His headache wasn’t going to go away it seemed so he would just have to sleep it off when he got a chance.

“This is so hard Jeyne. I don’t know if I can keep on doing this to myself.” His face showed that he was awake but on the inside he was tired. He was so exhausted by everything that was happening. The guilt of Robb and everyone else was the initial thing but stuff like this just made him want to steal Roose’s blade from his tent and just end it before it would reach the inevitable conclusion.

What’s the point of living if you’re only going to die?

He could picture it now. The warm red blood flowing from his stomach or wrists. He wasn’t sure how he’d liked to lose the blood. Next he thought about who would find him. A guard maybe. They would find his body and show it to the king. If he saw it was a stab wound to the stomach then perhaps he’d accuse one of the men in the camp of murdering him and not stopping until he had found the traitor who had killed his brother in arms. Even though the maester would tell him the wounds looked self-inflicted.

Then again he couldn't die no matter how hard he tried. It was only Roose who could murder him. 

He couldn’t put Robb though that. As much as the idea had been tempting to him in the past there was always some reason that kept him going. In the past it had been getting Yara to become the queen. Now it was getting Robb to live the best life he could given the terrible circumstances they all were facing.

“What if I just avoid the red wedding? I leave just before they close the doors.”

Theon hadn’t gotten a chance to ask Jeyne this before. It had sounded silly in his head so he never asked her fearing what her response would be. Enough people had thought him a fool in previous life. He didn’t need that shame again.

“The gods might allow it. If you asked them. Convinced them since they are so interested in this game of yours. But the question is would you?” Jeyne knew this was just part of his process. Everyone had a process when they went through horrible things. She was to go into the deepest part of the woods and just scream. And after a good long cry she would be fine 

Theon looked down to his hands. He knew deep in his heart though he so badly wanted to live he would have to die with Robb if he were to finally get closure. His had just been so fraught with panic that he didn’t think things through and see other options that were available.

“Do you know what I do whenever I need to let it all out?” She asked him. 

He shook his head. Everyone had a way of dealing with things. Catelyn made her prayer wheels, Yara drank and Robb broke the nearest thing in sight. 

“I let out a big scream.” She had learned from the wives of Mance that whenever she felt angry or needed to let her emotions out she should just shut them out for the world to hear. For the world had harmed her and therefore it would have to listen to what it had done. 

Theon looked around cautiously. He really wanted to make sure he was alone for doing this. He let the air fill up his lungs and waited for the exact perfect moment. 

Theon screamed over the lake and let everything out of his system. All the pain and all of the anguish. He didn’t think that it had been that long since he’d last screamed but it felt so go for him to choose to scream. 

Jeyne held him as he let it all out. It was euphoric letting his feelings burst through his throat.

His face was hot and he took a deep breath before letting out another one. The newest one more primal then the last. More power now he’d tested the waters with his first one. 

He couldn't believe how much it actually worked. He hadn't felt such a relief in a long time. He felt so good he had almost forgotten that Ramsay had been threatening him not so long ago. Ramsay didn’t make him scream. This was something he chose to do on his own. A choice. A sweet simple choice. 

“I don't know what I'd do without you.” He’d be lost without her. Or he would have probably run his mouth on for too long and get himself into trouble. But it wasn’t only that. She was so much more. She was the like the support he wished that he had before. 

“Likewise my friend. Likewise.” She felt the exact same way about him. It was nice to have someone who knew the same pain she had experienced over the years. 

The two of them needed each other. Theon would have gone mad and Jeyne would have been suffering here. Kindred spirits. Maybe if the gods were kind enough whatever door he chose he could be reunited with her and they could all meet each other for real. Lady Catelyn would have simply adored Jeyne and they would have gotten along well. Especially with Sansa when the time came. 

Maybe Theon could even meet the other version of himself and see what all of the fuss was about. Hopefully he’d be better looking but from what he heard he doubted that incredibly. 

Suppose we really must be getting back. Robb will be wondering where we've gone.” The day was in the process of beginning to change. The dusk was lightening up and the morning sun could almost be made out within the distance. 

“He’s a good friend. Shame he’s normal.” She said as she skimmed one last rock across the water. It was a moment of calm for the both of them. They wanted to savour these last few moments while they could. 

“There’s hope. He said he’s not sure he’s one for that type of behaviour.” She helped him up and his legs wobbled a little having sat down for so long. They rubbed the moss and dirt from of his trousers and made him look presentable. 

There was always that glimmer of hope that they’d be able to live happily ever after but there was that slither of darkness that was a certain Volantis woman. He hadn’t seen her interacting with Robb yet but no doubt that event was just peeking over the horizon. He would cross that bridge when he came to it. 

 

Tomorrow would be another day closer to the Wedding so they’d best not waste them.

He’d confess to Robb if it was the last thing he do.


	14. The Red Keep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have too much Uni stuff, family stuff and on top of it all, I found a major plot hole while editing the next chap. The worst thing that can happen. That's why its a little late and not very polished. Do people mind waiting? I feel bad going long periods without updating. Like I will get around to polishing it once things settle down. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Next one is better.   
> Like I could take this shit version down and just upload the good next chapter (Though it would be a major time jump) and then upload this one when done more if that makes sense? Idk give me help I'm tired and stressed. Thank you for feedback.

Theon was in Robb’s tent. It had been another dreary evening planning the war. Theon was becoming tired of all of it. The candlelight reflecting off each Little Piece but it seemed each evening after each battle they were becoming less and less wolves on the board and more and more Lions.

It was easy to see why Robb hated being in the room. He’d grown bored of trying to position armies in ways that they might be able to survive this war. Even with the food they’d have they couldn’t seem to keep their energy up. All the chickens in the world couldn’t have given them the strength to keep this up for much longer. 

They were on even playing fields at the moment but things had been rocky after the release of the kingslayer. Men began to lose faith in their leader. Theon had wondered when he would begin to see things unraveling. It was a thin poorly made carpet. Once one string had been pulled the rest became loose and fell to the floor. 

Theon looked at the Bolton marker. As he looked at it his whole body burned with the memories. He should have been focusing on the twins and roaring lions but he knew who the true enemy was. He knew that they should have been plotting against them instead. He honoured his vow to the gods about keeping silent about future events. 

Robb was sitting down looking at the Lion markers and wondering how long it would take for him to be finally be able to take every single one of the board. He looked over to Theon who was still gazing at the X. Robb moved the X and it seemed to break him out of his trance. 

“I need a break.” Robb said. 

“We both do.” Theon replied. 

It was getting into the early hours of the morning and they’d only now caught onto the fact that they’d been in here all night. I wasn't an uncommon occurrence recently.

Poor distressed Catelyn was losing it. She knew that the boys were okay but also the longer she went without news the more frightened she got. There was also the weight of having to pretend she was a mother in mourning. Robb tried to support her from afar but with eyes watching everywhere he couldn’t be seen supporting a known traitor to the cause. If he was too far from her then others would accuse him of being an unfeeling son. He was finding the balancing tough. 

 

“You’re going out with Talisa again?” Theon asked as he picked away at the bone of the chicken. 

This had become a regular occurance. Robb had met with the girl Talisa Maegyr. They’d met while he had been away and slowly they had started to become fast friends, moving onwards much to Theon’s dismay. She was the little cloud that would foretell the thunderstorm about to hit. 

It wa getting pretty serious so far but it was at the stage where Robb would still put his priorities as king over her. 

“We are courting just fine thank you very much.”

“And what would a poor Frey girl say?” Theon mocked him. Tiredness often could either make him irritable or sassy. This time it was a little bit of both. He’d only the smallest drop of alcohol. 

“It’s...Complicated.” Robb trying to justify it was something else. It was like him trying to blame a fire on Arya while he was holding the flint. Nothing about this situation was complicated. 

“We are both complicated.”

Robb still wasn’t sure of his feelings towards Theon. He loved Talisa and he thought maybe if he went out on a couple more dates with her then perhaps this spell of confusion would go away but the more it went on the more he fell deeper into the hole of confusion. 

“I know…”

“Are you sad because there is no one out there for you?”

“It would be nice to have someone to hold. Someone who could love me back. And I don't mean a prostitute.” It dawned on him. He never had that in his old life. He had slept with multiple women but no one to call a lady of his own. 

Theon began to eat the bone without thinking out of not wanting to talk anymore. Robb slowly took the bone away from Theon and left it on the ground for Grey Wind to have. Grey Wind looked offended that Theon had dared to touch what was meant to be his table scraps. No one was comfortable with what just happened. 

Back to the conversation at hand it got Robb thinking. 

 

Robb thought about it. He’d make it his mission to find someone for his best friend even if it killed him. A political match to get the North back on his side could be very useful in this situation. Right now things with the North were looking very sour. People had seen his loss to the Greyjoy’s and how they’d let their only valuable hostage away so easily for nothing. 

Now there was the Talisa situation. Rumours had began.

“There are rumours about me and the girl.” Robb said. 

“Rumours aren’t always a bad thing. I mean look at the rumours about me. They were true and I feel better now that people know.”

Theon did feel relieved he didn’t have to hide it. From the more traditional lords he was shot dirty glares. It was seen as unnatural in their aged greying eyes. Theon didn’t care. If anyone brought it up with him they were quick to hear how they’re fighting a war, which he died and came back for, and they had other things to be concerned with. 

“Suppose. Are you sure about Jon though?” Robb asked one more time. He had no reason to be asking about it but he was curious if the nail was truly in the coffin. 

“Yes Robb. I didn’t sleep with your half brother. That’s the last thing I would do with him. Besides he’s taken a vow of celibacy now he’s up at the wall.”

“He wrote to me. Apparently a lot of the men go down to molestown for a bit of fun.”

“Oh? A love interest perhaps.”

“Who knows? He’s never done it.” Robb said. 

“Clearly.” Theon replied. 

Robb chuckled at the last line. Jon’s virginity was something often joked about between the boys. Almost always in private. Sometimes sneakily in front of Jon when he didn’t hear it or realise what they meant. 

“Anyway wish me luck with Talisa. I’m helping her with Soldiers wounds.” He seemed relieved to be getting away from the stresses of the job. Then again he doubted that treating wounds would be his exact way of relaxing. 

“You’ll be fine. Good luck.”

Jeyne spoke. “Well Normally i don’t like the changes but this one makes me relieved.

“What?”

“Her name in my life was Jeyne too. Jeyne Westerling she was called. She was the daughter of a lord that Robb bedded and got pregnant. Her married her to keep her honour intact.”  
“That sounds about right for Robb.”

 

“I want a nap Jeyne. Robb’s draining me.”

“Oh dear. All this talk of his future wife.” Jeyne knew how hard it must have been for him.

It wasn't just Robb who commented on his eyes. Everyone he was friendly with in the camp asked if the lord was getting enough rest. The maester even offered herbal remedy but with the war supplies were low and Theon would rather it go to someone who needed it more. There were still plenty of men in trauma who needed it more. 

While he slept he Jeyne watched him in his sleep. He tossed and turned though he were a frightened child. It was a given though. She supposed ever since seeing Ramsay in his tent again his old feelings had been brought back up. He didn’t do this every night but there would be nights it was mild and then the worst panics she’d ever seen. Time was seeing him get better but still the mild ones annoyed him as he was tired. 

 

She knew the gods had given her mind control powers over Theon like control him speech but now she was beginning to wonder if perhaps she could give him good dreams. 

She took position over his head and waved her hand seeing what tricks that she could do. 

-

Theon was in a chamber of some kind of description. It was fancy. Very fancy. Marbling only seen in the finest of castles in the whole kingdom. His nose picked up something new. It was cleaner than the camp. Fresh seawater. It reminded him of his old home. 

 

Robb entered the room only to blink in surprise at what he saw before him. Theon was curled up on the bed and it looked like he was still asleep.

Theon awoke with a sudden start.

He awoke and there was a view of the sea. The salt water was filling his lungs to the brim and he couldn’t get enough of it. It made sense now why the room smelt of the ocean but now the only question was what he was doing here. 

“Good morning my love.” Robb said coming into the room from what he assumed was the bathroom seeing as he was only in his bed shorts. 

“Robb?” Theon had heard him wrong. He must have. Why was Robb calling him my love? It didn’t make sense.

“I had a bad dream. Guess it tumbled my mind a bit.” He tried to laugh it off but it clearly didn’t sit right with the lord. Robb wiped away the nearly formed tears from Theon’s eyes. This made the kraken turn another whole level of red.

“I want to hear you tell me a story. Reality is lost on my head this morning.”

 

“Well which story from our life would you like?”

Our life. Those words made him feel warm. He’d never thought he’d hear them in his mortal life. Theon thought carefully about his words in case this was another test by the gods. 

“The war. I often forget what happened.”

“I don’t blame you. Well after we decided upon the peace treaty with the Targaryen Princess we were able to crush Tywin Lannister and exile Cersei with her children to Pentos. She seems happy enough but I know she’s plotting against us, I just know it. Jamie was sent to Storm's end as hostage of Renly.”

“Sansa? Jon?” 

“Mother and Father are retired in a keep just slightly more south of Winterfell. Sansa is wed to Margaery Tyrell. They have a child. Sansa had the child with Loras for political reasons. It’s still got Tyrell blood so the lords don’t mind. Margaery is expecting her child with Renly. And that will be Renly and Loras’ child.”

“Jon is wed to Daenerys. Rickon to Shireen. Bran is somewhere beyond the wall and Arya...She’s happy wherever she is. Apparently she’s taken up with some blacksmith from kings landing the last I heard.”

“My sister…”

“Queen of the Iron Islands. Your mother is now well thanks to the maesters of the Citadel and she’s coming for a visit later on. Balon was exiled too but…”

“But?”

 

“Euron didn’t appreciate not getting help after being banished. Balon received a quick death. Euron met the same fate soon after his ship was wrecked during a storm.”

“So this is a dream? Or my final death.”

“You’re acting weird. Did you dream of him again.”

“Ramsay? He’s dead.”

“Yes. Executed by my hand.”

The thought of him dying by Robb made him all sorts of happy. He couldn’t describe it at first. This wasn't real but for a single second he could pretend that it was. Ramsay’s limp body falling away from his head was a vision he savoured like a boiled sweet. It was so beautifully poetic. The man who burned his home executed rightfully in front of all of his victims. Justice for everyone who knew him. 

Robb gave Theon plenty of kisses on the head. 

Theon’s heart was pounding as fast as his stomach was about to explode with butterflies. 

His hands were playing with the curls of Robb’s hair. It felt so real yet somehow he knew it really wasn't. 

His hand went down to his torso where he felt the arrow marks. 

“The Red Wedding?”

“I survived and so did you. We are stronger now.”

He kept on feeling the scar. It was healed over well and it didn’t seem to phase Robb all that much but he could feel where the skin had been ruptured. The flesh remained a blotchy red around it. The skin was healed tougher then his own had ever been. It was tight but firm. 

“I don’t want to leave this reality.” He knew it was a dream. Perhaps a fever dream knowing how his luck had been the past couple of weeks. 

“You’re going to wake up soon.” Robb told him as he held him tight. His waist almost not being allowed to move.

He tenderly embraced Robb and went up to kiss those lips he’d dreamt off for so long. They were only seconds apart but much like reality 

 

Theon woke up to the smell of dirt. The smell he hated. He was in his tent yet again. 

 

“Are you awake Theon?” Robb asked. 

“I’m just up.”

 

“You’ve been asleep for 19 hours. I don’t blame you. Your eyes look better already.”

“How was Talisa?” He asked almost completely convincingly. 

“She’s fine I guess. I haven’t seen her since yesterday I suppose.” 

Theon turned his head to the side with a tired expression as Jeyne started to smirk. His eyes rolled for a moment before he remembered that Robb couldn’t see her. 

“She’s unlike any other girl I’ve met before. She’s a lady but she’s so truthful. She knows what the real world is like and she doesn't care for status. I could have been a soldier and she still would have treated me with the same amount of respect.”

Theon was still smiling despite watching his best friend beginning to be stolen away by a random lady. 

 

“She reminds me of you a lot.” Robb said, interrupting his current thought.

In what world did he, Theon Greyjoy, remind him or her, Talisa Maegyr. He was a tall traumatized man with years of experience with heartache and abuse. She was a young pretty face in her prime. A beauty from the South. Not even the south. Volantis. 

“It’s unusual…” Jeyne Poole said. 

 

“I can see previous Robb’s timeline and I can see his thoughts… They’re changed.” 

“How are they changed?”

“They’re clouded. You’ve changed the timeline yet again. Originally Robb only fell in love with Talisa because he felt she was his only true friend at the time. She was there for him after you broke his heart. But you never betrayed him this time around. So he’s taking longer to fall for her.

Theon held his head in shame. He’d broken Robb’s heart. He felt he was unredeemable at this moment but then he realised that that’s what he was meant to be doing now. 

“So they won’t marry!”

Her face turned to sympathy. She hated having to tell him this for she knew it would break his heart and it had been broken so many times before.

“It’s a fixed point. It’s going to happen regardless of what you do but…” she knew the situation was unusual but there is actually a positives hidden deep within, something she hadn't seen before but now was only begining to be brought into the main picture.

“But what?”

She had more she had to say. Her small faced scrunched up trying to think. 

“The situation surrounding it might be different but I wouldn’t hope for too much.” the gods had mentioned to her that there were certain fixed events it wouldn't necessarily lead up to them the same way. she didn't know what it meant it first but now she was beginning to think that maybe Robb and Talisa might end up differently thanks to Theon being here.

“That's good.” He didn't know if it was good but it was worth keeping an eye on situations and seeing what she meant 

now we wait I suppose. what is the next fixed event?

“ it's a while away. but it's Robb and Talisa’s wedding


	15. The Wedding Tree

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theon is witness to the wedding of Talisa and Robb. After a talk with the mother of the groom. He learns something new. Something different....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back baby and slightly late for Halloween but 6,666 words. A little bit of angst but light at the end of the tunnel.

Robb had come to Theon’s tent alone in the dead of night. It had been ill-advised by pretty much everyone but he didn’t care. He had been talking with his mother and he knew that this was what he had to do. It was what he needed to do to save her. 

Robb had not yet woken up Theon but he could see the scars on his body. Theon slept so rigid. He supposed it made sense. He also seemed to have thrown the covers from off his sleeping form. Thankfully he must have been tired the night before as he fell asleep with his trousers on. He was smiling. Jeyne had given him good dreams for the night. 

Jeyne was passed out on the other side of the bed. She didn’t technically have to sleep however it passed the time and she enjoyed doing it so she did it when she could. Or when Theon was away doing something without her. 

“Theon. Theon get up!” He gently shook Theon’s sleeping form. He wanted to be gentle.

Robb shook him a little bit harder by the arm, careful to avoid his scars that went all along his arm. He knew where a majority of them were but he still didn’t like touching him just in case. It made him squirm. He could feel the scars underneath his nightshirt. There was a strange one he hadn’t noticed before. It was on the left upper bit of his muscle. The thick scar was forming in the shape of a X. A little too peculiar for his tastes. 

Robb feeling the outline was what woke him up. It was a gentle start which made a difference then what it usually was. 

“Jeyne? What...What is it?” A mumble. Theon knew that if someone was touching his arm in the middle of the night it meant that his dear ghost lady friend was taking some sort of panic. He’d told her and do whatever it took to see that smile of hers again. Robb found it sort of funny how he thought it was a woman and gave off a small laugh. 

This was a mistake. A male was in the tent instead of Jeyne. The last time it had been Ramsay and he’d come back to finish the job. Or it could be another assassin sent to finish the job and he pushed Robb onto his back side. It wasn't until Robb grunted loudly that Theon made the realization of what he had done. When Theon saw Robb in slight pain on the ground he was up like a shot to help him back up. He grabbed Robb’s hand and hoisted him up. Robb rubbing his behind to dull the sting. 

“Sadly it’s not the girl you’re seeing. It’s me. I still have to meet this mysterious Jeyne by the way.” Robb smirked down at him with that smile that made Theon's heart beat one second faster. Well if it was still alive that is. Robb being taller than him was intimidating however somewhat comforting. 

Still it didn’t explain whatever Robb was doing here. 

“Robb what are you doing here? It’s the middle of the night.” Theon saw behind Robb and sure enough the moon was still in the centre of the sky surrounded by the stars. He looked into Robb’s eyes and saw the exact same thing. He sighed. 

Robb had come here with a good intention that much was clear. 

“Theon, brother it is good news. I and Talisa have decided to be wed. Tonight. We can’t wait a moment longer.” He had been so in love with Talisa and he knew he didn’t want a Frey girl or any other woman to marry as a political sacrifice. What he had with Talisa was his first true love. No one understood him like she did. She was everything. Beauty and brains. 

He was also confused. He thought marriage would set him in stone. Talisa he loved but he also loved someone else dearly. Someone he knew he shouldn’t. 

While Robb was smitten with this fantasy night Theon was being forced to face the toughest reality. 

Theon's world shattered. He knew it was coming. He knew Robb and Talisa as soon as the dull eyed pretty little brunette whore showed up. He knew they were to be married but this was killing him. It was like his body had been wrecked upon the rocks. 

“That’s great...Why do you need me?” His voice definitely wasn't cracking from the devastation of the news. It was just he had been woken up at such an early hour. That was all. Definitely not the heartbreak of losing someone forever. 

“We need there to be a witness and someone of status needs to present her. I want you to do it.” He could think of no better person to be the best man at his wedding. He would want no one else beside him. His perfect night needed all of the most important people in his life and no one was more important than his best friend. This was probably a bad idea considering his mind but he was still his friend first before everything else…Maybe?

Robb was giving him the look. The look that he had grown to love. The face that made him smile when his scars were hurting. Robb knew it was a lot to ask but they were best friends. They had been together through life and death, wars and love and he would want no one else at his wedding besides him. 

Theon was about to tell him to fuck off. This wasn’t what he wanted. To see him in the arms of another woman was driving him to the brink of madness. 

He swallowed down his regret and any of his ill harboured feelings towards the bride. He nodded yes in response to his question with a mischievous smile. 

“I’ll be there in a moment. I need to put on my cloak.”

“We are by the old tree. Hurry soon.” Robb left the tent with a great haste clearly excited about what was to happen. 

At this point Jeyne had been awake for some while and she had been a witness to everything that had happened. To anyone other than her they would think that Theon was genuinely happy with these arrangements. To her eyes she could pick up on the finer details of how he was completely stressed by this. His wrinkles started to age by about fifty years. 

Jeyne and Theon were alone to talk. Jeyne was looking at Robb running off to meet his bride while Theon was sat on the bed his hands reaching up to cover his face. Like a statue of an angel. 

“This hurts.” He said. 

“Are your wounds okay?” Jeyne asked knowing that pain was often linked to his physical body. She didn’t get what he meant. 

“I can’t stand it. She’s the reason he died. Or at least one of the many reasons.” Theon just thought about her face. She was pretty that fact he couldn't deny but knowing the pain she unknowingly brought upon the Starks made him seethe. The worst part was that it wasn’t even her own fault. She was a simple girl who had feelings for a king. Anyone could have been her. He was in her position. 

“You can’t say anything.” Jeyne warned him seeing what way his tone of voice was going. “I’m sorry but you can’t.”

These words made Theon pause. He couldn't say anything. Robb was going to die but so was a poor pregnant queen. Her only crime was the same as his own. 

Being in love with Robb. 

“I know. And it’s killing me.” Theon’s opinions were constantly changing and he hated feeling this way. One moment he thought he had made his peace with Robb falling for her but then other times he just wished that he could send her back to wherever it was she had come from. Essos or Pentos. Everyone would have been safer that way. 

It wasn't her fault really. She couldn't control what would have happened next. Welder would have still done what he did regardless if Robb betrayed him or not. He was on the losing side and his marriage only cemented his part in the plan. 

Theon had talked with her long enough. The bride and groom were waiting for him underneath the tree. The night was growing weaker and the moon was to be setting soon. He missed the moon often. The dark hid things. Things he would rather forget.   
\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------  
Theon had worn his Greyjoy attire, the gold threads was truly shimmering in the moonlight. Robb probably didn’t want him wearing it but they needed an official Lord to give away the bride and for that he needed to play the part. Though he had been disowned he still wore it with pride. He was the kraken raised by wolves and he wore that title with honour. Though no people may sing songs about him, or even remember his name he still would know it for himself. His name was Theon. 

He approached the tree. There was only four singular torches lighting the scene before him. Robb was by Talisa’s side already while the priest was standing in the middle. A scene fit for any romantic secret wedding. A secret which wouldn’t be kept for long. 

They could see him approaching and all eyes were on him. His smile was shining brightly and happy for his brother was about to tie the knot with someone he loved. 

“Who here presents her?” He said despite him being the only man who was there other than the groom. He sarcastically rolled his eyes before speaking up. Jeyne shoved him in the shoulder a little bit. It was like a squirrel trying to push a tree over. She lacked so much muscle that it was impossible but it was her spirit that counted. Often at times like this Theon would fake the impact just to go along with it. Also it didn’t help she didn’t have a physical body. 

“Theon. Formerly of House Greyjoy. Hand of the King in the north.” 

It wasn’t like Sansa’s wedding. This was filled with smiles and the bride was happy to be doing this. It was an autumn wedding and no one was to suffer. His missed the cold snow that had been falling. The snow often meant soothing for his scars and cleansing for his dirty face and greasy hair. It wasn’t enough to make him fully clean but it was enough to waste away some of the pain. 

They couldn't have asked a more perfect night to have a wedding.

Now was not the time to be thinking about pain and other dreadful things for tonight was a night that a person should be able to focus on beauty. He looked for something to focus on. The bride was always have said to have been the absolute vision of a lady. 

She was beautiful. Her skin was shown beautifully by the pale shine of the moon but it was Robb who was truly the most dashing. Both of them made a beautiful couple together and truly they did deserve each other.

They spoke a couple of other vows to each other. 

“In the sight of the Seven, I hereby seal these two souls, binding them as one for eternity.” The priest wrapped up their two hands in the sacred ceremonial cloth. 

“Look upon one another and say the words.” 

“Father, smith, warrior, mother, maiden, crone, stranger.” Even their voices were perfectly in tune with each other.

“I am hers and she is mine.” Robb said. 

She replied. “I am his and he is mine.” She loved him. She really, really loved him. In her eyes he was the only man in the world who mattered in that moment. She’d grown to love a king. The lords she hated so much was the man she was about to marry. 

He shouldn’t have been but he was. Theon was only just holding it together. Had it not been for Jeyne there by his side surely he would have lost it. Jeyne was holding his hand in reassurance. She had been married once before and she had known how painful it was. Then again these were very different circumstances. Theon gripped her hand tighter than before. 

They said in perfect synchronization. ”From this day until the end of my days.” 

In all honesty he could have probably have openly talked to the Lady Poole for neither bride nor groom could hear anything else apart from their love for each other. Their hearts beating loud about what they had just done. Theon’s heartbeat may not have been there but if it was it would have been beating weekly.

They kissed under the pale moon. The stars igniting as their lips met. Both staring lovingly into each other’s eyes. They only had to care about their beloved. 

The priest blessed the union and it was official. The King in the North was granted a queen. 

A patch of green grass could have grown underneath where Theon stood. It had been a dry summer and enough tears came from his eyes to regrow the whole field. Perhaps some flowers could have grown from the sorrow. Maybe some Chrysanthemums. Robb liked Lupin. The small blue flower. He supposed that he must have liked it due to the name. Wolf. Fitting for the king of the North. 

No blue roses would grow. None at all. The winter rose was forever tarnished for him. After that day. 

The wedding was over and the deed had been done. The couple turn towards Theon. 

Theon’s smile was big and toothy. He gave them a quick thumbs up before hugging the both of them and congratulating them on their new marriage. May all the gods bless them on this day of all days.

They celebrated in private with the few good soldiers who knew. They had arranged for the chefs to get up and prepare a small amount of food while he woke anyone who could play music for them to dance the night away. They were celebrating a little bit away from the camp as to not wake the others. 

Theon was sitting by the side of all the festivities. He wasn’t in the mood for dancing or laughing. Maybe drinking would be a better solution. 

“I wouldn't mind marrying them both.” He told Jeyne watching as they danced together and he threw the rest of his drink down his hatch. This was his sixth drink into the night and the effects of the alcohol were only beginning to hit him. Being dead it took a little longer than it would before. Jeyne Poole had never seen this Theon drunk and she would have given any amount of coins to remember this moment forever. 

She laughed not because she mocked him but because it was something that she related to. 

“Don't the Dornish have those types of relations?” Jeyne asked. She hadn’t been interested in the Dornish in her first life but she always wished she could have visited. Apparently the streets smelled of plumbs and luscious oils. Jeyne loved fruits. So fresh and exotic. How so would have loved to taste the zest of a Myrish Orange. She’d heard rumours that one smell of it you’d become the most desired person in the room. 

“Maybe I should have been born there instead. Then I wouldn’t be involved in any war besides the Lannister’s and the dead.” Theon often wondered if his life would be easier if he was born into any other house besides the one he was. Would he have to deal with his identity issues if he was raised as a Tyrell? He could have spent his days walking about a garden without a care in the world. If he had been raised as a Targaryen he could have had dragons. Hell if he had been born into the Baratheon family he could have spent his days exploring and gallivanting about the world. 

Theon was a sad drunk. Or maybe he was just always sad but this particular time he happened to be drunk as well. This whole thing was turning out a lot sadder then she first pictured. 

Robb and Talisa were walking away and Theon knew the reason why. Time for another lonely walk. 

“Do you want me to join you on this walk? Or do you need to relieve the stress of the wedding?” This was a secret code. Little walk in actuality meant go off alone to get rid of emotions. While they both were good at listening to each other they sometimes needed time alone for them to vent about more private issues. Jeyne would go off whenever she needed to and Theon went off when he needed too. Jeyne had enough faith that he wouldn’t go spilling the tea to anyone. 

Not the last time a wedding would cause stress.

\---------------------------------

Theon went to the tree where he had witnessed the wedding. It was in a small clearing near the camp but far enough he could let out his emotions without being questions. 

The walk had been short but gave him time to breath in the air. Each night he could feel it getting colder and colder. After talking with the men in the army he determined that they also felt the chill beginning to creep in on their bones.   
He came to the tree. It was a bigger tree then most in the forest. The gods had filled it and made it bountiful. Probably why Robb chosen it to get married by. Married. Married to a whole who would only get him killed. 

“Robb you fucking idiot!” Theon yelled while pounding his hands against the tree. He did it until his hands begun to bleed. The pain was nothing he kept on beating it and beating it until he'd managed to work out all of his rage. 

His face was a mess. His nose was running like the Riverrun streams and his eyes were glass like. His dull eyes shining with tears. 

He was about to begin on another tree until he heard something coming from behind him. It was unmistakably the sound of rustling bushes. He knew it couldn't have been an animal as most of the wild life had scattered once the giant army had come into the surrounding area. And the weather was mild, not a gust of wind to be heard or felt. So by deduction there is only one thing it could have been. A person watching him. And only one person would have followed him out here.

“Jeyne for fucks sake I know you’re there!” He yelled into the bushes. He knew he shouldn't’ be mad at Jeyne but his emotions were ruling over all other reason. She had promised she would sit this one out. 

The rustling of the bushes stopped and was replaced by someone speaking. Not Jeyne’s soft spoken voice but a more motherly tone. 

“Greyjoy?” The voice did not in fact belong to Jeyne as he came to realise. 

“Lady Catelyn! I’m so sorry you weren’t meant to hear that?” He was fucked. He would be dubbed a traitor by all. The king’s mother just heard him call her son an idiot. And a fucking idiot at that. The two things she hated. Traitors and poor manners. 

Lady Catelyn came into the light. She was in her night robes but her hair not been dishevelled. The way her dress was it could have perfectly past for an early morning gown. It would have camouflaged well had it not been for the two most striking aspects about her. Her hair and the embroidery.

There is no doubt that lady Catelyn had been kissed by fire as a babe. Not only by fire but by the sun itself. It may not have been as bright as Sansa’s but it was more mature like the finest red wine. A fresh orange flower blooming into its fullest form. 

The other thing that gave her away was the design on the dress itself. It was the colours of her maiden house, House Tully. The base colour was blue and was silk. Clearly a fine gift she had been given by her family. The red fish was what made it stand out in the dark. The way she moved almost made it look like it was swimming on the very fabric itself. 

“It depends on the context on what you're saying it in. what do you mean? About Robb. I do not care for whoever this Jeyne is you’re seeing.”

He was going to get into trouble if he mentioned her name anymore so he made a note in his mind to try and limit how many times he talked about her. It seemed impossible to avoid. 

“I don't think Robb should have married her.”

“Neither do I think she's made a terrible mistake but it made him so happy. I'm just worried we made a promise to Lord Walder and we broke that trust is not an easy thing to get back.” Catelyn had never wanted the union to happen in the first place. Honour above love especially in these dire times of war. There was also the other thing she promised not to mention….

“I know”

“You seem very angry at him. Is there a particular reason.”

She was probing. Looking for the truth no doubt. 

“I'm just don’t think he should be married at all. “ He replied. 

“He needs a queen. Maybe not this Talisa girl but a Frey girl like we promised. “

“He needs someone who’ll love him back in fifty years’ time. He needs someone who knows him like the back of their hand. Someone who…

Catelyn was hanging off his every word. The way he spoke was so passionate. Almost as if he were talking about a lover...

“Did you love him?” Catelyn asked it as though she already knew the answer. She had seen the way that he looked at him. This was much more than a brotherly admiration. It was something a lot more. She never talked about it to him because he’d never spoken romantically before. 

It was the way she had looked at Ned once. The way she had looked at Brandon. The way that Robert had looked at Lyanna. 

“I don't know. I know always be his best friend but I can't help but think what if it was more. I know it could never be true. I can wish or pray but at the end of the day he’ll never be mine.”

“Don’t try anything with him” She warned him. Not because she was worried about him as a person but rather how Robb would react. He had just been married and to be seen as hating the Bride could be seen as treasonous. 

Theon nodded along. He knew but he couldn't try anything with him. Especially now at this point thanks to the marriage.

The wind blew softly around the both of them. Theon breathed in time with the Wind almost in a calming motion. He looked towards them and shook his head. Catelyn took a note of this and thought about her son dancing away without a care in the world well his best friend was here suffering in silence. A terrible thought clicked in her head. She managed to summon up the courage to ask him what she needed to ask.

“Is he the reason you betrayed your family? Is he the reason you…died?” It had only occurred to her that he might have betrayed his family for loving the Stark family but for only one Stark in particular. 

It would have been too simple to lie. He could have said that it was a matter of family but if she was asking him this question she already knew what the truth was. The terrible truth. 

“Yes.” He said. He lowered his head knowing what she must have thought of him for thinking but he was in love with her son.

Catelyn had never been more sympathetic towards him. He’d been in the same position she’d been in all those years ago. When she’d gotten the raven that her one true love was burned in King’s Landing. That stupid little raven with its beady eyes. She’d run away from the castle and found a quite tree where she could mourn the death of her beloved. She’d cried and cried as she knew she could never be with Brandon again. How she’d be forced to marry his brother. But she’d taken her family words to heart. Family, duty honour and to keep with her duty she would marry this Ned Stark, even if it felt like a betrayal. 

Now Theon was here, sitting by the tree as he got his raven.

She opened her arms for a mother’s hug. Theon didn’t know what she was doing. She had never hugged him before. Only Robb had the pleasure of such motherly love. Regardless of experience Theon went in for a fully embrace. He held her tightly and Catelyn returned the favour. 

At the moment when he let go of her they parted themselves. His face was red but he refused to cry despite all the emotions built up inside of him. He felt like he was beginning to accept it, not entirely of course but his rationale was slowly beginning to return to him. The first stage of grief was over.

Catelyn nodded towards him. This was such a difficult situation for him. He was forced to walk Robb's bride down the path into Robb's name and into the Stark house. It must have been heart-breaking to watch. It reminded her of when she had heard of Brandon’s death at the hands of the Mad King. 

“Did I ever tell you about Brandon Stark?” She spoke as gently as a falling feather. He needed comfort. The both of them were unhappy with the events of the night. Talking of events past could help them to see the future a little clearer. 

“Robb's uncle?” He questioned. He was not a man he was personally acquainted with.

It was rare that Catelyn would ever bring up personal stories to tell Theon but over the past couple of months she had grown closer to him than she ever had before. Theon didn’t know much about the Stark family, let alone a bother of Ned. All that Bran had been named after Brandon who had been engulfed in flames by the mad king. 

“He was my first love. I didn't want to be with Ned a first and when I lost him it destroyed me.”

“You never loved Ned?” this came as somewhat of a shock to Theon. He had seen the first hand damage That Ned’s death had done to her. Should spend hours alone in her tent weeping for her lost husband. She was emotional whenever she got his body back in a crate thanks to Lord Baelish. Ned and her we're simply designed to be together. Bound by honour and by love.

Cat looked to the stars. She thought about the last time she had done something like this with her husband. It must have been at least 7 odd years ago. It was roughly around the time that Rickon had been born. The little prince had decided to come into the world late at night when the moon was full and the stars were blazing across the blackness. They did not feel the need to announce the birth until morning as they saw no point in waking up the whole Castle for a fifth born child. It was just Ned and Cat who knew. Along with their maester.

They left Winterfell with their new-born baby son and found the nicest Hill in all the North. They showed their baby boy what would all be his one day and how he was going to enjoy riding and hunting and doing all the things that little lords loved to do. It had been one of the memories of Rickon that had kept Cat going ever since they had been stolen away from her.

She finished her story as she realised she may have been thinking about her baby boys a bit too long.

“I grew to. Love Ned that is. It took time and work, a lot of work, but we did have a wonderful marriage and wonderful children. A wonderfully stupid firstborn, a graceful lady second born, a quite thirdborn, a little wolf fourthborn and my beautiful last born.” Her voice cracked at Bran but sounded fully broken by the time she got to Rickon. Her children she’d scolded and now some were dead or missing.

It's sad and she knew Theon would never know this feeling. The feeling of holding a new-born son in his arms or teaching his little girl how to dance properly for all the Lords of Westeros to see. Perhaps he would be able to find a nice orphan child to adopt or maybe Yara would have a child he could take on while she was being executed. She was the only legitimate way for them to get an heir now but she had to pay for what she had done. 

This made Theon think about things. He really was never going to have a child that he could call his own. He would never be able to name a son after Robb or a darling little girl after Sansa. If life had told him one thing was the blood didn’t matter. A child could be born of the lowest peasant but if Theon loved that child with all his heart he could have the Greyjoy name and embrace it with glory. 

“I'm going to move on from Robb.”

“Good. You'll find someone. I've heard prince Oberyn quite likes the attention.” She brought up.

This was the last thing that he had been expecting to hear this time around the last name Martell. The last time he had seen a Martell with when Ellaria had been invading his sister, so to speak. 

“Oberyn Martell? The Dornish prince? What makes you think I'd be suitable for him?” Theon hadn’t see himself with anyone besides Robb. Even when he knew that Robb was going to be married and he thought of other people he still didn't think he'd be a suitable match for anyone let alone a brave warrior prince from Dorne.

Catelyn began her explanation.

“Well you seem like you want to travel the world and he's about as far south as anyone else. He’s a skilled fighter and you are skilled fighter. And it just makes sense. It would be the union of sand and sea.”

He gave a small laugh at her matchmaking skills. Though Oberyn was known for being the biggest flirt in the entire Seven Kingdoms Theon would still have to decline that offer. When he'd been at Dragonstone he’d seen how much Oberyn’s mistress was in the mourning process. The lovely Ellaria with the temper of a snake. It felt wrong to try and impose on their somewhat perfect relationship. To love him after death was a familiar feeling. 

There was another warrior he had his eyes on. But he was currently dancing with his new wife somewhere.

“Are you just putting us together because we both like men and women?” Theon asked knowing exactly that was the reason she was suggesting it. It couldn’t be helped by her she supposed. A lot of people thought that men who liked men automatically went together. It depended on a lot of other things, mainly personalities. She should have known from seeing how well Loras and Renly got along. 

He knew it was the truth as soon as her eyes went downwards in shame. 

“I am not putting you together based on that. Whatever would make you say that?” A nervous splutter. 

“It’s fine. You’re turning an awful shade of red.”

“I'm glad we understand each other. I think things are going to turn out okay in this war I can feel it in my bones. After we talk with Walder all should be okay. He’s going to hear about this. Maybe this girl won’t be so bad. She couldn’t help falling in love. A crime we all guilty off.”

This broke his heart. She was like him in a sense. She made mistakes. Terrible mistakes that often caused her great pain.

Their conversation had included everything. Jokes, heart to hearts and understanding. There was something missing. The truth. After Theon bearing his heart and trying to move on to new and better things Catelyn knew she couldn’t keep her promise to Robb. It simply was unfair to him. 

“May I tell you one of Robb’s little secrets?” Lady Cat said whispering. There was no one about but her voice was still kept low. Theon slid closer to her to hear her better. He should have respected Robb’s privacy but this was something he’d never get the chance to hear again and when opportunity came he had to grab at it. 

“What is it?” He asked. 

“You did not hear these words from me. The only reason he wed her was because he slept with her. They consummated before the marriage.” Her phrasing ever flowery. Though deep down he guessed she wanted to say the word fuck. Catelyn had gotten to a point where she could get away with saying the word fuck. Theon would let Catelyn say fuck. 

This shocked Theon to his core. This was what Jeyne was talking about. Situations happening because of different reasons. He didn’t marry Jeyne because he loved her but rather because they’d had sex. But that didn’t make sense either. Why did him staying loyal lead to Robb sleeping with Talisa?

“I thought Robb would have waited till marriage.” Theon said. Robb was known for his honour after all. 

“They did it 2 weeks ago. Talisa got in an awful panic because they weren't careful. She feared a pregnancy. It was even more of a panic when she didn’t bleed.”

“Bleed?” Theon didn’t understand at first but after a second it clicked what she had meant. He nodded and let the awkward moment pass. His eyes shied away. Periods weren’t talked about often. 

“He wed her because he loves her but also as a backup in case it did turn out he had. She had her blood two days ago thank goodness.” Catelyn explained further. It was beginning to make a lot more sense now. They both knew what would happen to Talisa had she been left pregnant and unwed. Their child a bastard. Robb wouldn’t want the same fate of his blood as he witnessed with Jon Snow. 

This surprised Theon. Though he had been initially upset at the wedding he felt like he learnt the true reason behind it. As long as it wasn't him loving Talisa that made him decide on it there was still a Glimmer of a chance. He should have heeded his own advice. Trying to move on from Robb would be the less painful at the two options but he could never forgive himself if he didn't try given he’d been granted a second chance.

Theon would find out why he slept with Talisa. There had to more to it. 

They were in silence yet again. Catelyn was obviously very tired and would have a lot of work to do due to the fallout of the wedding. As they looked over the water they could see it was no longer blackish blue but was now starting to ignite with the amber colour of the sunlight hitting it.

“I suppose we best get heading back. The sun is about to rise the bride and groom are probably wondering where we are?”

The sun was indeed rising in the east. The next day was drawing up and was soon to become like any other. 

She nodded in agreement. They’ve been there for quite a while now. It seemed odd how the time has passed so quickly. She could sense a kindred spirit in him. She could not remember the last time she talked about Ned to someone in such a way. The only way to keep his memory alive was to let others know what he was like. Someone who knew he was not some hard stupid man but rather a kind soul. He had made one massive mistake in betraying her on the battlefield but in death she could now see how Jon's existence was going to save her two baby boys.

They walked back in silence who they had talked about everything that needed to be talked about. He could now check off his list of people he needed to make amends to. Catelyn Stark was now officially ticked off that list. 

When they came back surprisingly they could see Rob and Talisa dancing in the warm torch light. Clearly they had told a select few soldiers about the engagement and they were helping to celebrate. There is light music in the air and everyone was dancing away. It made Theon wish he could truly enjoy things like this without having to worry about what would eventually come to pass. A knife to the stomach for Talisa, arrows to the body for Robb and the blade for himself. 

He looked at Talisa laughing and smiling. It was at this moment he realised he couldn't hate her. Talisa didn’t deserve his hatred. He was just being selfish. He didn’t want Robb to belong to anyone else and he had just been as he always had been. Selfish spoiled little boy. 

Just like Ramsay always told him.

Besides this was a war zone and he saw no point in destroying an innocent relationship that made his one true love happy. If his suffering meant he would be ok somehow some place he could live with himself.

He wanted to hate her, he wanted to have her burning in his mind anytime he saw her and if could, have despised every breath she took then he would have. But he couldn’t. She was just a girl who happened to fall in love with the king. They shared that trait coincidently.

Previously his feelings were hot and cold. One moment he wanted to do everything in his power to keep the lass safe where as another moment later he’d want to send her away and pray that the gods grant them a divorce. Now he knew it was something else. He had something to do with this marriage and it coming into play but figuring out the puzzle would be the trick part.

Robb was happily dancing with his bride when he noticed that his friend was beginning to get a little bit misty eyed. He walked over to him and checked him over to see perhaps if it had been any off his scars which were acting up. He didn't want his friend to be in pain on his wedding night.

“Theon are you alright?” He asked very concerned for his friend’s well-being. 

“Just so happy for you.” He said pretend the tears on his face were tears of joy instead of those which were tears of anguish. 

Robb only saw Theon was happy. He trusted Theon with his life and had proven to be a truer friend then many. If Theon had said that he was unhappy with the arrangement then they would have worked around it. 

“Go be with your bride Robb. I only wish you the best of happiness.”

Robb was happy that was all that mattered he supposed. There was something he could do and things would all be okay in the end.


	16. The Executioners block

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An execution is remembered and Theon lies to Robb to keep him happy.

The weather outside was miserable. Ever since they’d been to Riverrun all it seemed to do was rain and rain. At least they’d had the luxury of setting up camp. They were staying in the same place as they had been for the past couple of weeks. There’d been little to no movement as they were still trying to plan their actions. 

The men didn’t seem to be enjoying this either. They were stood out in the freezing rain and taking turns in the tents to save themselves from hypothermia. It was evident that everyone was getting sicker. Even when they weren't fighting or waging war there were still men who died and the sickness was beginning to spread. Men turning green and coughing up their lungs.

They tried to stop it but the elements were put up against them. He couldn't figure out what to do. Robb was meant to be a king but things were beginning to come apart.

The only thing more miserable than the weather was the sight before Robb, Catelyn and Theon.

The war map was something they were all sick off. If they saw it one more time then surely they’d all set it on fire. All of them could hear the map laughing at them, mocking them with a cruel aura. Currently there are a lot more Lions then there were wolves and this was concerning all three of them. More Starks than Greyjoy but still it caused Robb distress. They all knew why but no one wanted to say it. 

“What if we allied with the Dornish? They hate Lannister’s after that nasty business with Elia and her children.” Robb said pointing to the sun and spear shaped marker on the map.

Catelyn sighed 

“We've been over this. They’re ideal but they are too far away. They have to go through the Stormlands and Joffrey will have men there. They’d have to fight through all of that even before reaching Kings Landing.” Catelyn told him for the seventh time that day. Weeks were going on and he was getting desperate. 

Theon tried to move the wolf to a different part of the map but it didn’t work. 

Theon was good at pretending. He knew what the outcome would be of this eventually but he couldn’t seem like he was not helping. Robb would never forgive him if he was seen as being lazy in his time of need.

“Make a deal with the wildlings! Tywin would never expect that to happen!” He was spurting out ideas. He knew that it couldn’t possibly work until Jon forcibly made it work for him. How Jon was able to make a deal with the wildlings he never know. Naturally he knew the story that he had been with the wildling girl Ygritte but he doubted getting involved with one girl would automatically change everything and make him the ruler overall. Theon had been a little bit busy during that part of his life so he didn’t know all. 

“I’m losing men Theon! And you want me to lose more by making a deal with the wildlings? I should never have killed Karstark.” He ended up blurting out by accident. 

Not talking had proved to be a major problem. Robb didn’t talk about what happened after the execution. He’d been changed by that day. Even Talisa was having trouble getting the words out of him. It was unusual for Robb not to say anything to Talisa about it. He unburdened his load with her a lot seeing as she was a doctor of the mind as well as the body. 

Though it wasn’t just Talisa in this matter… He’d tried to approach Theon in a very unusual manner to talk about it but in the end he’d chickened out and excused himself with other business concerning the troops. The words had been on the edge of those lips but he couldn’t seem to find the right phrasing for it. 

Catelyn saw how violent he was getting over this. There was regret stored deep within him. He should have listened to her. He shouldn’t have sent Theon, he shouldn’t have married Talisa and he shouldn’t have killed Lord Karstark.

“You had no choice Robb. Had you kept him as a prisoner you’d have lost the faith of the men. We’ve lost the Karstarks true but there’s always something better waiting around the corner.”

It was hard to forget the scene that had played out only a couple of days prior. It's been a difficult decision for all of them. The Lannister boys had been murdered by Karstark men and no one knew how to deal with it properly. Catelyn was insistent that they kept him as a political hostage, that way they wouldn't lose the Karstark men and they could keep a good general. Edmure was of the same belief. He didn’t want the Karstark to be harmed but knowing the way that he acted before, concerning the previous plan Robb failed to tell him about he doubted that he would do the right thing here either. 

Robb didn't want to have to kill him but as king there was no other choice. If he did keep him as a hostage this was weakness and he knew that Tywin Lannister’s little spies would do anything and everything to exploit this weakness. Once a mirror gets a crack it's easier to cause more to appear, if you press down on the right points you can see it beginning to break and if you cause enough cracks eventually the whole thing shatters into a million pieces.

Robb knew this and he knew it was worth the risk. It was worth taking up his sword and causing pain to ensure his reign. His crown had been forged in blood so a little more wouldn't hurt. 

They all remembered that day. It was a day much like today. 

The rain was coming down hard all over. The scene was sombre. No one dared to other word. 

There in front of them all was Rickard Karstark kneeling down with his head on a block. 

This was a different kind of Horror. It was different from Ramsay. This was dread more than anything else. The dread of knowing what event this was. It robs reign as King had been a rug then it would have been mostly intact save for the fraying sides. This beheading was the tread that was pulled to tear it all apart. 

“The blood of the first men flow through my veins as much as they do yours boy. I fought for your father. I thought Joffrey for you. For you we are kin. Stark and Karstark.”

He looked around. No one answered him. He wanted someone to speak to him as a man before his death. He was owed that much at least. 

He couldn't do it to Robb or Catelyn but there was one he could talk to. Perhaps he could get in one final taunt at the Greyjoy. He blamed him for the king slayer being let go. If it hadn’t been his sister taking Winterfell, then Catelyn wouldn’t have been inclined to let Jamie run free to murder his own son. 

“Tell me Greyjoy. When I die what will I see? What horrors are waiting for me on the other side of the life?” He was a man about to have his head chopped off but he was going out like a true soldier. He knew that Theon had been on the other side. Most men believed that Theon was simply presumed dead when really he was just in a coma but he’d seen the damage first hand, witnessed the horror with his own two eyes. No normal man could have survived what Theon went through. 

Theon remained silent. He gave him a look of uncertainty.

This was a different timeline but would the people here get the same opportunities that he had been given? Or was it only his world and Jeyne’s that got this chance. He didn’t know and he didn’t care to know. He was a child murderer and he deserved death. Theon had died for his crimes now it was Rickard’s turn. 

Rickard spat towards Theon. 

This single spit was what it took to finally get Robb to get up with his sword and finally read him his final rights before he was to be sent to the land of the dead. 

“The King who lost the North. Kill me and be curt. You are no king of mine.” He said with a final viciousness. 

Robb was swift in is actions. “Lord Karstark. Lord of Karhold. Here in the sights of God and men I sentence you to die 

It had all been a violent flash across his eyes. 

They all seemed to be remembering at the same moment as they were all silent. Remembering the days shocking events. Catelyn didn't want to say anything but deep in her heart she knew the war would be lost without the Karstarks. They were the best supporters and all the soldiers had marched home others followed in their wake.

Theon hated thinking about this part. He knew that Robb was under immense pressure but he didn't know what else to do. Would it be wrong to give Robb false hope? They’re going to die in a matter of weeks anyway so why did it matter whatever he promised him.

If he was going to convince Robb he needed a story. A wonderfully miraculous story. Something that seems totally improbable that wasn't outside the realm of possibility.

He looked at the map and the locations. He then noticed something unusual. Casterly rock only had one lion defending it. That equated to about 500 men. Compared to all the men that Robb had it was nothing. He could send 1000 and have it captured. That had been done before by Robb but it had never actually happened. 

Another loving thing Ramsey decided to mention down in the Crypts. Those dark dingy days. Where the walls leaked water and the smell of hard stone and death was the only thing that could be smelt. The place where Ramsay held the Greyjoy’s head to the decaying corpse, where he’d made Theon sew a random slave boys head onto the honourable Ned Starks bony body and where his last escape attempt ended. Permanently. 

“Take Casterly Rock.” Theon said as he looked towards the lion’s main home. It was practically unguarded. No men to defend it. 

Catelyn and Robb looked over to Theon. It was a mad plan by him. It was foolish yet neither of them had thought of that before. They couldn't dismiss it before they thought it through. Theon got a determined look in his eyes and began to explain it more. 

“We have the men. If we take their home then Tywin has because to respond. That’s where he’ll mess up. “He spoke with an enthusiasm that was not shared by Catelyn.

Robb was considering the plan. It was a brilliant psychological tactic. Do to the Lannister’s what they had done to them, taken away their home and all that they loved. It was brilliant in this regard but whether or not they could actually capture it was an entirely different thing. You would have to sacrifice men and he wasn't sure if he was willing to pay that price.

“But if we lose we will be caught between The Lions and the Sea.”

“Not quite…” Theon said. “It was an unusual letter I had received. A letter came by a raven with yellow speckled wings. Black and yellow meant it was Greyjoy colours.”

“And you didn't tell us because?”

“Because I didn't think it was real. But I have confirmed that it is.”

“What is real? Theon what is it?”

“Surprisingly my tale has taken hold of the iron islands. The prince who came back from the dead. A miscommunication. The truest believers of the drowned god believe I am one of his chosen champions. As strange as it is to say I actually have some allies in the Iron Islands.”

In the totally real letter he had received from the totally real group it detailed how they truly believed that he was a chosen champion and they would give him everything and anything that he needed to bring the iron born back to glory. 

They believed it was like an old tale. A man who turned away from the iron born to save it. A hero whose full plan wasn’t ready yet. It was a tale in the making much like the one of Robert’s rebellion or the Rulers of Valeria. 

“If you can convince them to steal you enough boats…”

“We can retreat if the Lannister forces get there in time. Then while the soldiers lick their wounds in casterly Rock we can take Kings Landing while it’s vulnerable and unprotected. Tywin will want to put his focus on where I am, especially if I’ve taken his home. Or we could divide the men. You go to Casterly Rock and I take the men on boats to King's Landing. That way if either event happens we will be prepared.”

“Can they get enough past Yara? She seems to be more in charge then Balon.” Catelyn commented remembering she was a part of this conversation. She'd been so enthralled by the tale she couldn’t believe what he was telling them. She didn’t want this to be an example of something that was too good to be true. 

“I’ve heard that since father’s taken ill she’s been too busy to notice. That’s why she left Winterfell when she did. At this time of year all the boats get taken to the south of the iron islands because the weather is soon to turn stormy and the winds too much. All the fish will head to the south of the islands so all the boats get taken there. We can get them before Yara would know.”

This fake plan was coming together perfectly. 

“Robb couldn't contain his smile. This was a miracle.

We can win this war. For the first time since Karstark died I truly believe we have a chance of winning.”

Theon could see how happy he was. Even if it was lying to him the sin was worth that smile on his face. 

“Boys this is all very good but we are forgetting that the boats are dependent on one, very important, thing.” Catelyn simply hated to ruin the fun and their hopes this was a serious issue that needed to be addressed. Theon noticed that she was holding back as if she didn't want to see what it was. Her eyes cast downward to the map and the unease in his stomach rose up like a flag of surrender.

Both looked to her. 

She picked up the map marker in the shape of the twins.

This brought them back to reality. He thought for a good second that perhaps he would have been able to assist Rob and give him a good plan that would help him win the war but he forgot the event. The Place Where Rob would call his grave. The hall of the Frey’s. 

Robb sank down in shame. He should have known this day would come back to haunt him but he didn’t think that it would be so soon. He knew Talisa was going to be at the centre of all of this. He was going to face the consequences of his actions. He was going to have to look Lord Walder in the eyes and explain to him why he chose a foreign whore over his own daughter. Theon rubbed Robb’s back as he tried to get over the initial realisation. 

“If it’s something I have to do then it is something I have to do. As a king I must face responsibility for my actions.” he had made the choice of marrying Talisa and he stood by it even if it did mean losing something they needed. 

He looked to Theon and thought of Talisa. He and Catelyn were talking about something but he couldn’t hear them. He was so focused on Theon’s face. He couldn’t stop himself looking. He was happy for him. He couldn’t tell why he couldn’t figure it out. It was meant to be simple so why wasn't it. He was married he was meant to be loyal. So why did he feel things for Theon...Not just brotherly feelings...

Catelyn nodded in approval of what her son was saying. She hadn’t felt this good since they captured the Lannister. The most savoury victory. She could see Robb thinking hard and she tapped him on the shoulder

“It's time. Let’s plan this war.” King Robb spoke.


	17. War Camp: Part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theon talks about children. One happy conversation and one not so happy.

Theon was in a neutral state at the moment. He had dealt with Ramsay but the Red Wedding was yet to happen so he wasn't exactly sure what to do with himself. They were fighting battles and winning Wars. Except that wasn't the truth. It was the truth from Robb's perspective. And as long as Robb believed it he would be okay. 

This was the first time he had been alone with her before. There was the time that she had been his nurse after healing his scars but he didn’t remember much about that time other than pain and Robb’s face. Words passed around the camp and he had heard all sorts of things. At one point he had heard that she was a witch from the southern Isles sent by the Lannister’s in order to curse Robb with bad luck.

“So Talisa...How long have you been in the North?” Small talk was something Theon had an average skill at. He could flirt with men and women or he could pretend to speak fancy for the lords but average folk was something new to him. He didn’t know much about her but just from the way she looked she was a southerner for sure. Perhaps she was Dornish?

She brought Robb endless amounts of happiness and that was a good thing. He tried to tell himself this constantly. 

“I've been here for a couple of years now. I must say it's a very big change from Volantis. Northern customs are still very strange to me.”

Northern customs did take a while to get used to for him coming from the Iron Islands as a boy so Volantis must have been a huge change of pace. Everything in the North moved so slowly compared to the busyness of the free cities. 

“Like what?”

“For one thing all of the Lordship titles and the way you have stewards and soldiers. I’m confident in those things but still, I get it mixed up sometimes.”

“Do you not have Lords in Essos?” He knew this but the small talk made him feel yet again he felt the need to ask.

Theon found this out when he and Yara had visited. Everyone was free and happy under the rule of Daenerys Targaryen. He had assumed that if Daenerys was a Queen then surely she would have lords to rule over. She didn’t as it turned out. 

“We have a type of lord I guess. They’re just rich people who owned slaves in businesses.” She was talking about the slave masters or nobles. Her family weren’t slave masters they had been incredibly rich and therefore hosted the most lavish parties in all of the Land. Once Upon a Time Talisa had thought that she would grow up to keep hold of her family's fortune and continue their business.

After the incident with her brother she knew it wasn't what she wanted. There was Injustice and pain in the world. So she couldn't solve everything she could try the best to make the world a better place. To do this she needed to start by healing the pain. No better way to do that than becoming a nurse. She would be more than a person who owned a slave and danced.

“Ah so they are lords just called something else.” Theon jibbed. Daenerys had killed every single last slave master alive. He had heard it had been rather gruesome. She had killed them but stringing them up on the mile markers as they had done the children. Nails in their hands and everything. Left to bake in the hot sun. 

Though it had a horrible back ground the joke made her laugh. Not many people would be able to make her laugh so genuinely. 

Silence yet again. 

“How’s the child?” Theon asked absentmindedly as he saw her gently patting her stomach. The clothing wrinkled underneath her hand. There had been a small change but not enough for anyone to begin to take notice of anything being different. Theon was guessing that she must have been pregnant by now but he didn't realise that she wasn’t aware. 

“What?” 

“You and Robb have been married for a couple of weeks now. You’re bound to have a babe in the belly.” He pointed down to her stomach and she gave a more affirmed feel around. She thought that perhaps she had just been adjusting to the rich northern food but she felt it growing every day just by a little bit. And the firmness too.

“Oh...I hadn’t considered but now that I think about it I have experienced changes in my body.” She had never considered the possibility of being pregnant. She had made every excuse yet she ignored the most obvious one that was staring her in the face

“I was kidding.” Theon said sweating hoping he hadn’t accidently spoiled that their child was already in her belly. 

Jeyne could tell these things and Theon’s eyes looked to her for answers. Jeyne drifted over to Talisa as the both of them pondered what was going on in her womb and sure enough both of them felt at the same time. Jeyne knew a couple of seconds before Talisa did but when both knew all of them had the same look plastered on all of their faces. A sort of amazement with the most pure joy. 

 

Talisa spoke up. “I- I- Would you excuse my rudeness?” She wanted to know as soon as possible so she had to go to one of the other doctors in the camp. They would be able to tell her. 

“Of course. You have places to be. I should probably keep Robb away from the medics then. Just in case it’s good news.” Theon smiled and Jeyne nodded thankfully back at him. It was certain it was going to be good news. She would be having a healthy baby boy or girl. I wouldn’t matter in the end. 

“Would you mind?” She asked. Theon was being surprisingly helpful to her. She could see why Robb had him as has right-hand man. He was all so pleasant to be around, a little bit on the weird side but that was understandable given his circumstances. He still smiled despite everything and that was inspirational to her.

“Of course not. You should be sure to find out first and you should be the one to tell him.” Beyond would like nothing more than to tell Rob he was going to be a father however he thought that honour should go to the mother. After all she was the one carrying the child.

“You’re a good Lord.” Talisa give him a quick kiss on the cheek. Robb often talked about his friend being a changed man but she wondered from what. He was such a good person now. Perhaps he was one of those lords who was a spoiled little brat as a boy but grew out of that stage.

“Really? Damned I was beginning to think I was evil.” It was nice to finally joke.

She rolled her eyes. “Fool. I will come back later hopefully with good news.”  
She seemed like a nice enough girl. If Theon was speaking honestly his previous life would have tried to get into her pants and maybe just maybe help raise the bastard he'd probably leave behind. 

But now he believed she was a good person deep down and be the exact woman that Robb needed. She was no Roslin Frey but she matched his personality quite well. They were both filled with passion and under the right circumstances they had grown closer and closer. Enough to put his entire kingdom at risk for her.

When Talisa found out the good news from a proper source Theon took the moment to talk with Jeyne. All this talk of babies and Marriage got him rather curious about her life. She had been married to Ramsay under the pretences that she was Arya Stark taken freshly from the grip of the Lions.

“Jeyne I hope I’m not being too rude but with Ramsay did you ever….” He couldn’t finish what he started to say. At first he thought it would be okay but then he knew coming out it was way too personal. 

Jeyne was quick to get the implication of what he was trying to ask, given the conversation here just had with Robb’s wife. 

She looked down to her stomach where life had once existed but it remains flat. A hand reached to her stomach and she rubbed it once. “I did. The child was gone before its time. Suppose it was for the best.” It was evident she was hurried to get her answer out in the open. She didn’t like talking about these things. Her whole body began to tense up at the memory. She only told Theon because he was the only man she trusted. 

Theon looked down to her. It was obvious she would have to explain first dance on losing her child 

“Would you want another Ramsay running about to torment another generation of girls and boys alike? It’s in the Bolton blood so he would have turned out that way.” Jeyne had always wanted a child since she was a young maiden. The fairy-tale ideal of motherhood simply appealed to her. When she got that gut feeling she was pregnant with Ramsay’s child she began to panic. She had been told as a girl her child would be the spitting image of his father. If that was the case then she’d sooner die then bring another Bolton into the world. 

Perhaps she had hope for the baby. Hopes that it would have taken after her instead of him. Perhaps it would have been a little girl who would take after her mother.

Theon could see her reasoning clearly. The Bolton line would only continue and get worse with age. Especially with someone like Ramsay as their father. When they would teach him how to hunt and skin from as young as he possibly could. That is if he decided to keep them alive.

“Did you know if it was a boy or a girl?” It seemed the right question to ask considering the circumstances. Then again talking about dead children was something he was never quite good at.

“I lost it too soon to know. I had a feeling it was going to be a girl. I always wanted it to be a baby girl.” Jeyne’s maternal instincts were strong. It was what she was taught from an early age. He would be a lady and have loads of children that she could teach to be proper ladies and all would be wonderful as it was in the tales of old. 

“I'm sure she would have been just like her mother.” as much as the child would have Ramsay’s blood it would also have Jeyne blood coursing through its veins and if that happened to be the case then it would be a strong force of nature. 

Jeyne had tears in her eyes, despite knowing but it couldn't have been her fault she still felt deep within the crevices of her heart but if she had done something differently maybe it would have lived but for now in this moment she was happy enough. She was sad about the loss but she could rest easy knowing that an Innocent creature would not have to grow up under the Bolton banners or that others wouldn’t have to fear them. 

“What about you Theon? Did you want kids? Before Ramsay…cut you.” 

Theon didn’t want her asking it but it was only fair that he answer her back given she had talked with him about her history with kids. 

“I always saw myself with a boy. A strong boy I could name after my brothers. Or a girl I could name after my mother.” He missed them. They would beat him about and call him names but he’d take them any day over the last couple of years. 

She went under his arm and let him comfort her. She wasn’t going to burst into tears but she was drained. Anything to do with him drained her easily. 

Robb walked up to the depressing sight with a big smile on his face. 

Once again Robb burst into his tent with a smile of pure joy on his face. Theon had never seen him so happy in his life, not even when getting his first horse for his name day ceremony. Although he and Jeyne had just had quite a morbid conversation his smile was able to instantly melt away any of the hardened grief plastered over his heart.

At least someone could be happy with the news.

“Theon did you hear the good news?” He was breathless clearly. If he knew Robb he was probably running about the camp, his arms waving in the air and proclaiming for all to hear that they were going to be blessed with the new prince or princess. Another Stark was to be born. The grandchild of Ned and the great grandchild of Rickard Stark. 

“What is it mi’lord?” He asked feigning innocence

Robb was mixed between happiness and concern. He noticed this often. Theon talking as if he were a lower person. There was a distinct difference between My Lord and Mi’Lord. Theon had no reason to be speaking like this yet he persisted. wasn't that there was anything wrong with it or that Rob disliked it, it was simply a matter of him not being used to hearing at all that often.

He shook his head and continued. 

“I’m going to be a father.” Robb’s whole body was vibrating with excitement. He was radiant.

During his first life he had heard from Ramsey in the torture chamber that he was to be a godfather if Robb were to ever forgive him. At the time he couldn't imagine what Robb’s reaction must have been. He daydreamed that Rob was like most fathers who would simply give his wife a kiss and announce at a banquet that they were adding a new member to the family that would be the end of all of all the fuss until the child was to pop out of there.

Theon put on the biggest smile he could. He was happy for Robb really. This was the happiest he had been in weeks and the best news to come out since the wedding. Theon just felt that little tingling in the back of his brain. The one that refused him to fully enjoy it. 

Was he jealous of Talisa? Was that where his original hatred stemmed from? It couldn’t be. 

Then it occurred to him that she had everything that he wanted. 

She could have children with the man she loved. He was destined to watch this happen from afar. 

“I want you to be the child's godfather.” Theon rushed as he said this. He felt like if he didn't get it out quicker he'd never get the opportunity again or he’d feel too awkward asking

“I’d be honoured.” Robb didn't have to think about this. Of course Theon was the best man to be the child’s godfather. 

Robb was the proudest he had ever been in this moment. He was about to have a child of his very own. Someone he would be able to teach to fight and ride regardless if they were a boy or a girl. He’d give them the whole kingdom when they came of age. His family was growing and he was determined to win the war before but now his reason was concrete. He couldn't give up or surrender now. Not now not ever. This became a war that she could not afford to lose. The future family depend on it. 

He kissed Talisa and Theon could feel his heart breaking. He was trying so hard to pretend Robb was just his best friend but now he knew for sure. Catelyn came silently upon all of them along with the pregnant woman. 

Kissing Talisa in front of Theon felt wrong. He’d do it all the time in their private sessions but something about Theon watching them made him very uncomfortable. Did he think that Theon didn’t like seeing it? Or was it that he was worried about making him jealous with his condition?

Robb knew Theon would be a great dad given the chance. He could see himself and Theon raising the child if anything happened to his beloved wife. Theon would be so supportive of the small prince or protective if it happened to be a princess. 

He loved Robb.

He loved his passion, his spirit and his everything. 

Robb was holding Talisa and softly touching their soon to be baby. 

It was like a family picture. A family picture he didn’t get to be a part of. 

A man came running onto the scene and Robb would have had him marked for ruining his perfect moment had he not been recognised as an official squire of the North. 

“My lord. Lord Walder has heard of the union.” He was breathless. 

Catelyn groaned in frustration just loud enough that her son and daughter-in-law would be able to hear her. She knew this was bound to happen. She just didn’t think that it was bound to happen so soon. She didn't think she could even be able to step foot in the halls again. Not after this shocking embarrassment. 

Robb had betrayed him and he knew he had to deal with this the way that most men in the North did. Honourably. Talisa was frightened as she had every right to be. She knew that she was partially to blame for the mess that was about to hit them and she needed to care. 

“We will go to him now. We owe him an explanation.” Robb said. 

Thus they began the journey to the man who would kill them all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp that the angst over for now. Next chapter Theon vs Walder Frey!!!


	18. The Twins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Lord Frey demonstrates his power over the Starks and Theon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One the home stretch now my dudes.

Being from the future he would have normally have been aware of everything that was going to happen next. This was a strange event he had no knowledge off. Normally Theon would have known of most things as Ramsay enjoyed to boast about it often. He couldn’t have boasted about this event. 

The Halls of the Frey’s were filled to the brim. 

They had been there for about an hour now and things were only beginning to get underway in terms of politics. 

Walder was droning on about how he was being hospitable and all of that. Theon was passed the bread and salt from Robb and he took a small bit. It was a flavourful little treat which he hadn’t expected. Then again anything tasted good to him now, even clean water was a blessing. 

The meeting between the King in the north and the recently betrayed Lord Frey had everyone put on edge. If they weren’t allowed to cross then the war was essentially over. Tywin would have won and they would have nowhere to go except back home. They would have to kneel before the king and they’d be lucky if they were taken to prison. This meeting reminded him a lot of the Dragon pit meeting. No one knowing who to trust or who to turn to. Cersei having a controlling aura over everyone. 

At least that was the worst case scenario in Robb’s mind. Theon knew the worst case scenario and he knew it wouldn’t end well. 

At least this time there was no Euron here to make him feel weak and insignificant. There is one thing he wished he had from the original dragon pit meeting and that was a chair to sit on. He didn't like to bring it up because he would he would fear people mocking his disability. His legs were killing him but he would suffer in silence. Talisa being so in tune with medicine notice he was having trouble but he politely declined saying that he just slept on it wrong and nothing more.

 

Catelyn would have been on the edge of her seat if she had been sitting down. Theon could tell what her mind was thinking. She was thinking that the Lord Frey would perhaps have mercy on her son and perhaps he mightn’t have. It was split and she could understand his reasoning either way. She was biting her nails through her gloved hands for fear of what would happen here. Another stress related habit he had picked up on her doing.

Theon had never seen Lord Walder before and he had to say he was one of the ugliest men his eyes ever had the pleasure of seeing. His face resembles that of one of Ramsay’s blood hunting dogs, the ones which had the loose cheeks hanging down to their paws and Theon was sure that they had an equal amount of drool coming from it. Eyes that only knew the emotion of lust and pride. 

Everyone in this room was going to be dead in just a few short years. The Starks would go in less than a week however rumours had it that a certain lone wolf had murdered all of house Frey by first slicing Lord Walder’s throat and then poisoning the rest of his wretched family. The Strangler he believed it was. The same used on the young king Joffrey at his wedding feast. Lord Walder had went the best way, eating his two sons baked in a pie and then slowly Bleeding Out unable to cry for help only two lay there squirming like an injured rat. It almost seems like something Ramsay would do. Except strangely enough Ramsay had a certain reservation about cannibalism. 

His mind was pulled from one psychopath to another as the Lord opened his crusty lips.

“My honoured guests, be welcome within my walls and at my table. I extend to you my hospitality and protection in the light of the Seven.” The Lord said as he opened his arms to welcome in his guests. Every Stark man and woman was wearing a plastered smile on their faces. None of them wanted to be here but it was something that had to be done regrettably. 

Theon wanted to spit on the ground. He knew exactly what the man was going to do to them and yet he insisted on playing dub to the whole situation. Not only was he a traitorous cunt he was a malicious bastard as well. He was enjoying this he could tell. Theon kept his face stoic. 

Robb stepped forwards. 

“We thank you for your hospitality, my lord.” Robb said. He was clearly walking on eggshells not knowing what in the hell was about to happen. Robb had his army behind him and therefore he would get the backup he needed if they were necessary. Theon was seething that they had to pretend to respect him. 

Just looking at Robb in his king outfit was enough to put him at ease. Such grace and handsome features. Theon tried his best to look away before a blush were to expose him. Now was certainly not the right time to be feeling romantic feelings. He was meant to be serious and represent House Stark as best he could.

There was an air about the room. The thing they all knew was there but couldn’t get rid of until it was spoken. Robb made the first step in getting rid of it. 

“My ladies. All men should keep their word, kings most of all. I was pledged to marry one of you and I broke that vow. The fault is not with you. Any man would be lucky to have any one of you. I did what I did not to slight you, but because I loved another. I know these words cannot set right the wrong I have done to you and your house. I beg your forgiveness and pledge to do all I can to make amends so the Frey’s of the Crossing and the Starks of Winterfell may once again be friends.” Robb was trying his best to make himself sound as genuine as they possibly could. 

Judging from the eyes of the girls around the room they weren’t that disappointed about the whole debacle and were glad Robb had bailed on them. They obviously weren’t going to get used to being a Queen and the responsibility was not on them. While he was sure they were disappointed he couldn’t help but feel some of them might have been glad at the chance to not have to marry someone they barely knew. 

They were all so young. there was no doubt that most of them had bled yet however there were couple of girls who seem to be about Arya’s age and younger. It was amusing, if the Lord of the twins had followed through on his promise then Arya had murdered her would be father-in-law. 

He commanded Talisa to come up in front of him, his voice echoing throughout the hall. The lewd thoughts were clear as she stepped into the light. All eyes were on her. Some just looking at the centre of the room, others were looking at who was the bride of the king. 

His old and tired eyes looked at her clearly. 

“Love. That's what the Starks of Winterfell call it, eh? Heh. Very honourable, I call it a pretty face. Mmmm, very pretty. Prettier than this lot, that's for sure. Very shapely as well. Oh, you try to hide her under that dress. If you wanted to hide her, you shouldn't have brought her here in the first place.”

Catelyn despised him. He was a vulgar man and if she had thought it wise then she would have had Robb storm the castle and take the bridge by force but the circumstances were not in their favour at all. In this regard and everything else. Had they the men to spare then they could have easily but what they didn’t need was more enemies 

They were riding on Casterly Rock for this war to begin to look positive or else they’d be facing serious losses. Possibly their heads if Joffrey was to get his way. This was essential. Catelyn had prayed and prayed for this exchange to go well. It had to. They were offering everything and the lord would be a man of reason. A man of foul mind but reasonable. 

Talisa wanted to look back to Robb for support but it clearly wasn't something that she was going to be getting anytime soon. She looked the Lord in the face. 

“Your king says he betrayed me for love, I say he betrayed me for firm tits and a tight fit.” He said as he stared directly at Talisa, his eyes dropping down subtly every second. She wanted to run back to Robb but she knew how bad that would look for him. 

Theon could see the anger brewing within the very pit of Robb’s stomach. The Lord Frey was speaking of Talisa in such a manner that everyone would have been disgusted with him. He held the power so the room was forced to please him. He may have been a lord but his manners were equivalent to that of a boar. 

His mother was holding him back, subtly of course as to not offend the lord before them. Her constraint was the only thing holding back the protective storm brewing inside him. This was a pregnant queen and she was being disrespected and ogled as if she were a common whore. 

Theon felt her pain. Being degraded in front of a group of people like this. The humiliation was burning him as much as it was burning her. Then again at least she wasn’t having her clothes ripped from her body as everyone cheered on. 

He stopped his breathing for a moment and if it hadn’t had been for Jeyne then surely he would have been gone. All he saw was the past. 

Hands.   
Dogs.   
Ripping.   
Screaming.   
Back.   
Whip.

He let out a breath.

He was back. 

“And I can respect that.” He said saving himself for the time being.

Talisa was allowed to go back to Robb’s side and she did so without a second thought. Rob may have been the one holding her but Theon also landed a warming hand on her arm. 

And as if nothing had happened Walder went about presenting his girls Edmure name by name. He started with the more suitable ones and then worked more towards the ones who would suffice but he wouldn't necessarily pick. 

The room filled to the brim with mediocre girls of all ages and Theon knew one unlucky one would be sold to Edmure. He pitted the girls more than he did Edmure. Then again he had heard rumours that Edmure was kept in a damp dirty cell. He related to him a little too well in that regard. He had asked Jeyne if there was anything that could be done about it. Sadly Edmure was a fixed point. 

Edmure Looked around and grimaced. He wore a smile the best he could but alas he couldn't muster any true conviction. The young girls were prettiest but he would have found it terrible if he were to defile something so young. 

Before they could get back to business Lord Walder came out with something which he didn't expect.

“Well the uncle of the king isn't enough for my family. His hand must wed as well to solidify the agreement. To secure a place in court you know. For when you take the Red Keep as your castle.” Walder gazed upon Theon for the first time with true intent. 

At the mention of his name both Theon and Jeyne’s heads perked up. 

Theon looked to him. Everyone in the seven kingdoms must have known of his affliction so why this was happening he had no idea. So many eyes were placed on him, some knew why this was wrong some didn’t. Either way they were all trained on him, awaiting his response while holding their breath. 

Robb took this as an attempt to humiliate the lord even further and was going to tell him that it was enough for one day but again his mother’s gloved hand was there to keep him at bay. If Catelyn had been there Robb had no idea of what he would have done. He would have thrown his fists at him but absolutely no good would have come from it.

“But I wouldn't be able to consummate the marriage.” He told him without hesitation. 

Catelyn seemed to be impartial to the whole situation that was unfolding before them. She absolutely despised the man in front of her but she was curious as to where he was going with this. 

“No need for consummation boy. The title is all we are looking for. There are other ways of having children. We can ask your uncle to help, he is of Greyjoy blood.” He was uncompromising on this point. Theon could figure why he was doing this. He was either getting a thrill from watching him squirm or for once in his many years he was trying to be a good tactical Lord. 

‘What a fucking egotist…” Theon though as he walked forwards towards the centre of the room. 

“No…” This is what Theon had to say to Lord Walder. Euron would only bring trouble to all of them.

“No? You deny me when I am been more than gracious to you and your Lord who betrayed me and my girls.” His anger was lacing his words. 

“I'm not denying you. I am simply denying my uncle. He’s not fit to bear anyone's children let alone someone who could be my wife. You should try my other uncle Victarion. A holy man.” He told him.

The Lord was curious at this development however he would allow it. It wasn't like they were actually going to hold up on that promise.

“So be it. Pick any girl you see fit.”

He looked around his selection of girls. Many of them having normal faces. They weren’t exactly ugly but they weren’t beautiful either, not the mesmerizing type. Theon didn’t want to take a wife but he supposed it wouldn’t matter anyway. If he had to make a good guess it would only be two or less weeks until the wedding was happening so he wouldn’t have to worry about it for too much longer. 

There was some way that they must have been able to resolve this. He would have to after being belittled before the entire court. 

Jeyne scoured the room until she saw someone standing in the back of the hall behind all the other girls. A plum girl with a cute face standing sheepishly in the back, her head was bowed like a proper lady. It then dawned on her like light over a horizon. 

She grabbed his arm and yanked him to look where she wanted. He didn’t see what it was at first. “Didn’t you mention something about Fat Walda being in the Dreadfort?” Jeyne asked him while pointing to where she was. 

Theon looked to where Jeyne was pointing and in the very back he was able to make out the figure that was Walda Frey, the Granddaughter of the vile Walder. She was a lot younger than she had remembered. Being with the Bolton’s must have made her age. 

“You’re right...” 

“What was that?” His ears had picked up that he had said something but hadn’t quite heard what it was. 

“Walda! I choose Walda. Her nickname is...Fat Walda.” He hesitated to say the nickname but it had to be said at some point or another. There were too many children named Walda in this family. It wouldn’t surprise him at all if it turned out the Frey’s had a similar situation as the Lannister’s did. 

Walda’s head raised up to see where she was being called too. Her grandfather hadn’t even bothered to call out her name while introducing everyone so she felt her importance in this as non-existent. She looked towards Theon and she began to approach him. Then something remarkable happened, something which had never happened before ever in Walda’s life. A genuine smile was given towards her. 

She had been told she was promised to a Bolton but this man seemed a lot nicer and he had a reputation of not being a bloodthirsty warrior. She was already promised to someone else but that didn’t matter. 

She gratefully made her way to the front of the room. Some of the Soldiers from the Stark side laughed at her appearance and made there silent jokes. This choice went completely over Robb’s head. Theon would not have chosen her if she was the last thing that had tits in the Seven Kingdoms. He’s supposed that she did have the cutest face of the bunch. Likewise Catelyn was a little bit confused as well but if that was the bride he picked then so be it was the Bride he picked.

The Lord Frey laughed at the choice. She was hidden in the back as he assumed no one would have even considered her to be a worthy bride. No one except a certain prearrangement between him and Lord Bolton. Then again Roose wasn’t exactly picky about his bride. He could have chosen any of them but his only reasoning was that a hefty bride came with a hefty dowry. He was doing it for money and a place to plant his heir. Someone more legitimate than Ramsay. 

“You could have chosen any of my girls and you go for her. A bold choice might I say. Then again suppose its better that someone gets her in the end. How much silver do you want?” Walder motioned for one of his guards to bring out a pouch of silver he had saved for occasions like this. 

"Not a single coin." Theon had been using his money to help benefit others and he should have really taken some but he would have felt awful discussing prices in front of her as though she were a cow sold to the marketplace. 

He looked Roose dead in the eyes as he said it. Watching internally as he began to fume with rage at losing a whole bag of silver. The smirk on Theon’s face was glorious. If it hadn’t been for the setting and people he would have called Roose a bitch to his face just to rub his big nose in this sweet, sweet victory. 

He settle for the smirk however. 

The hall which was muttering quietly was left in silence. This was most unusual. Robb and Catelyn were shocked. It was accustomed that there be money involved for a wedding but Theon wanted none of it. 

“You want my granddaughter but no dowry?” Lord Walder asked him. He didn’t think that anyone had been expecting this to come from him. 

“I have no need for it. We will be wed after the Red Wedding. Robb will be king and we will have all the riches in the land.” Theon spoke with all the confidence of a lion. 

Roose had the normal look upon his face but in his mind he was grabbing the Greyjoy by the throat and holding it until his skin turned blue and his eyes bulged red. It was like he was deliberately trying to screw him over at every available moment in time. First it had been with the whole Winterfell debacle but now it was happening with his bride. 

What makes you think it'll be red?"

Like a flash of lightning he said the first thing that came to his mind.

“Because we'll be celebrating the blood of the Lannister’s and the flow of the wine.” Theon was fucking up big time but he was hoping that everyone would be buying this. He never had to make up such lies in such a short amount of time before. 

“Very good my boy. It is Walda you will have. We will wait for Edmure and his bride-to-be wed first before we do anything else concerning you. Your king will have his bridge.” 

Everyone in that one moment seemed content with the plan. Catelyn was especially relieved at the fact that they had solidified the union with two people rather than just Edmure. It was double security for her and she could rest easy knowing that this was going to turn out to be okay. 

“If you would allow me I was wondering is it possible to have my bride wait at the iron Islands for me?” Theon hoped it wouldn’t be too late to add on this minor detail but it was something that needed to be said. 

Robb was silent in the beginning, he was silent during the discussion about money but this wasn’t going to be left unsaid. "What in the seven hells are you doing?" He spoke through his teeth. 

Theon spoke to everyone but was addressing the lord and the king individually. "The battlefield is no place for a bride. Once the war is over I will be returning to the iron islands for a short while. If she is going to be the Queen of the iron islands she needs to know her way around so she needs familiarity with it. Surely this is a reasonable request.”

Walder had to take a moment to consider all of his options. It sounded like he was trying to do something sneaky but technically speaking there was no real way that Walda could do anything of significant importance. After all it would take at least one week before she would arrive at the islands and even more time to get to know the castle. She wouldn’t know about Ravens or how to send a message. 

 

He tapped the armchair while mulling over his options. The court was waiting on his response but they didn’t know which verdict they were going to route for.

Walder made up his mind on the matter. "Very well. So if you end up betraying us again I can't help but feel you might try and hold her hostage." 

“I think we both know that won't be happening.” Theon said through gritted teeth. Walder had remembered how Roose had sent him a warning that the Greyjoy was being problematic. He thought the lord of the Dreadfort was just over exaggerating but now he truly got an idea of what he was talking about. He wouldn’t call upon his guards just yet but he would if he felt it necessary. He knew their plans but had not said anything. Perhaps he was an ally in enemies clothing. 

“I can see why Roose Bolton hates your guts. I think it's humorous so I'll allow it.” Once again he was enjoying the others suffering even if it was minimal. Roose glared down the lord only for him to laugh in retaliation. 

Catelyn gave a sly look to the lord. Roose shouldn’t have hated Theon. She could understand a disliking but a hatred? That was something she would need to have discussed. It always seemed like there was an uncomfortableness between them. But neither of them would say. They were two who hated each other for no apparent reason. Or perhaps the reason was apparent and she just didn't know enough to understand what it was.

Maybe it was after Ramsay?

She could leave finding out until the conflict was done. 

“What do you mean by that?” Catelyn spoke up for the first time. If Roose was wanting to court someone during a war then the King should have been made aware of this but it seemed Robb was as clueless as she was. 

Roose stepped up beside lord Walder. 

“Roose was considering courting her but you’ve gotten to her first I see. Roose will have to settle with someone else. Sorry.” Lord Walder added on at the end of his sentence. Roose was seeing red through his calm demeanour. If he could flay the Greyjoy right there he would. He wanted him to scream and cry and just die already. 

Theon gave the smuggest smile to Lord Bolton. He couldn't be touched in this moment and Lord Bolton would have given away the plan had it not been for his deal with Tywin. 

“Well the discussions have happened and you have chosen your bride. I bet you just can't wait to see what's waiting underneath that dress of hers. I assure you it's not pleasant.”

Lady Walda was being humiliated in front of all these people. She was getting emotional. Her small face scrunching up trying not to cry. Theon saw a similarity again to the time he nearly escaped Winterfell and he wouldn’t stand for it. 

“The next Man who laughs at my soon-to-be bride will know the feeling of losing a finger. Am I understood?!” He held up his fingers and showed them to the crowd to get them under control. Needless to say the hall once more fell silent. 

No one was laughing at her now

While their staring match was going on Walder began to cough but Theon just assumed this was because he was an old man and his body was giving up on him. It only became more serious for him whenever he saw a pale pair of skinny hands clawing their way at his neck. Theon could see that Jeyne was rather furiously wrapping her skinny hands around his throat. She may have been a bony thing but she made up with it by the sheer force she was using. 

His eyes were beginning to water and his he was turning a blue tinted shade while his sons and guards were stood on the side lines not knowing what was going on with him. They were all too shocked by the sudden development to even move.

Robb and Catelyn had a momentary panic as their only hope of crossing the bridge was dying before their eyes and they could do nothing to stop it. They had only just gotten their deal sorted and now they were going to lose it. Theon vaguely heard Lady Catelyn to call out and help the man before he choked to death but his hearing was completely overtaken by the sound of Jeyne’s whimpers. 

If it was to be on a scale it would be right in the middle of terror and anger.

 

“I think you're overwhelmed. Perhaps you should stop.” Theon said in a tone that made him seem like he was addressing the lord of the Twins. 

 

Jeyne’s eyes were taken away from the lord and instead when to the Greyjoy. That time she looked to Theon and it was at this moment she let his neck go. Though she didn’t want to do it she had no choice. She knew she had to do em. 

The slimy way Frey spoke reminded her too much of Ramsay and she couldn’t take hearing another sentence. It was like a disgusting mud crawling up her throat which she wasn't able to throw up. Only able to feel and keep gagging on it. 

Immediately the colour went back to his face and the immediate choking was subsided for a time. The maester had just arrived on the scene and the Lord refused his help finding that he had suddenly got better on his own. 

He coughed around for a bit recovering. Robb and Catelyn stood there terrified. Even though he was okay many men wouldn’t look too favourably on it had he ended up being worse If this was an attempt on the lords life. Then the Starks would be the first suspects and no doubt they would have been held as prisoners here or worse. 

He held up a hand and rubbed his throat. He could have sworn it felt like a hand but it had been nothing. Perhaps a bit of his breakfast had decided to come back up? He wasn’t sure himself. 

“I am fine. I suppose you’d better get back to your camps now to prepare for the celebrations while we prepare for ours.” The Lord did have preparations however they weren’t to planning the wedding entirely. Now it was towards getting the men properly equipped for the job that they had ahead of them. It would be a red wedding indeed. 

 

“I’ll see you all at the wedding.”

Theon took her hand stealthily. The walk back to the camp was done in silence but normally they would have some eye contact. This time both parties had their eyes cast to the ground not wanting to talk to each other. 

 

Both were lethargic after the event. Even though Jeyne had no need for food or sleep she felt like she could have curled up in a bed and slept. Theon’s eyes shewed their tiredness. Small lines below his eyelids, he tried to wipe away but they were stubborn to leave his face. 

There was no rest for either of them though as they had something serious that the both of them had to discuss. 

“What happened Jeyne?” Theon spoke calmly. He knew yelling at her would only make her crying and crying ghosts were something he had heard enough of. He didn’t want to say it to Jeyne’s face but it was something that pained him. It was like a horse having its leg amputated, while also having it teeth pulled out. It was loud and you just wanted it to stop. 

“He was so...Perverted in his manner. It reminded me of him.” Her eyes were somewhere else. Theon had pieced enough of her world together to get the idea that perhaps she may have been thinking about a particular night with her husband. Maybe he had forced her down to the floor and had taken her while she was in agony? 

As quickly as the tears left her pale complexion his arms were tight around her and making a cocoon of safety around her body. She gasped gently but soon she huddled even further into the hug and let herself feel the warmth of his safety. 

“He’s not the type to hurt you. He’s a scum filled pail but he wouldn’t hurt someone like you.”

“I made a fool of myself.” She hid her face for the shame was burning brightly upon it. Shame that she had nearly ruined Theon’s second chance by trying to tend to her own selfish needs. 

She hated herself. She had almost ruined Theon’s chance. What was wrong with her? Why did someone so different from Ramsay still give her the same grotesque feeling. 

“You’ve done nothing like that. You thought he was Ramsay and you wanted him dead. Nothing more.”

Sadly he knew this feeling all too well. It had been a during the many boat trips during the long and stormy nights when he’d start to whimper in his sleep and Yara would try to wake him from his nightmares. When he woke he’d assume it was Myranda and he would push her away with all the force he could. Yara ended up more annoyed than anything at the end of it. She’d sometimes end up with a bruise or two depending on what was going on inside his head. 

Jeyne was able to calm herself enough to form a sentence though her breaths were still haggard and obviously nerves still racking her brain.

“I’m sorry. I wish I could be as strong as you.” She said in a quiet voice. She looked defeated but Theon didn’t understand what she was saying. He was a form of strength for her? Not possible. He had been Reek. He wasn't strong. 

 

Jeyne had seen Theon as a beacon of strength even before meeting this version of the Greyjoy. He had convinced her to escape with Mance even when she had been certain that it was a trap or another one of his elaborate games to torment her even further. Even after all that time he still wanted what was best for her. He would still have betrayed Ramsay after being starved, beaten and flayed. That was strength she aspired for. 

“You think I’m strong. Even after everything you’ve seen me cower in terror at. I was afraid of Jon Snow and he’s the gentlest human I know. Look at his hair for god's sake. It’s so fluffy and soft. And Greywind.”

This made the maiden giggle a little bit. Even if it was just a little bit it made Theon happy he had been able to make her laugh and find some kind of humour about the situation.

Shared trauma between two friends made for good comedy. Or at least it made for common ground they could share and cry over. 

 

“We’re both broken but we are slowly mending.”

If they didn’t have each other than they’d both still be lost to some extent. 

Jeyne removed his top and touched his axe mark in his torso. He was remaining strong for her. The axe was a reminder of where he had protected his sister from harm. It was his mark he took pride in. Unlike Ramsay’s knife marks he could feel proud showing off the axe mark for he could show it knowing what it meant. 

They were in agreement once again. 

She touched Theon’s face and gently stroked down his cheek. He was her rock...But yet somehow it still wasn't him. It wasn't him. 

“I miss my Theon.” She looked down. As much as this Theon was a good man it still wasn't her own. She held back her sob and smiled. He was still the best friend she had ever had. Supportive in every way and he knew her inside and out. She needed a moment alone? He could tell with a single glance. They were one in the same. 

He could understand where she was coming from. It must have been so hard for her to have been ripped away from essentially who was her knight and her saviour. To be puts into the arms of some random pretender who barely knew her. Like him being ripped away from his family when he was a young boy. 

“I’m sure he misses you too.” His words comforted her. 

“I’m sorry I’m being foolish. 

“You’re not foolish. The only way you are foolish is that you think you’re being foolish.”

“That doesn’t make sense. How does that work?”

“Isn’t it better to be confused then unhappy?”

“You sly dog. I do feel better. A little bit confused.” Jeyne joke. 

Both laughed. 

They walked around the corner laughing until Theon suddenly was knocked off his feet. It wasn’t intentional it was that he had bumped into someone 

A sharp inhale was taken and he heard someone apologizing furiously. 

The noise stopped and instead a chubby hand was offered to help him up. He looked up to the woman before him. 

“Lady Walda? What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be with your father in the hall sorting out arrangements?” He hadn't expected to run into her at all. 

She looked flushed. She obviously was here in secret. He knew the way she looked around she was looking out for anyway looking at her. 

“I just wanted to pop by and thank you really. No one has ever stood up for me like that before. Even my own grandfather's making jokes about my weight.” She was a shy woman but clearly it was a right brave move to come here while all the others would have simply been good girls and stayed there. 

“You least of all deserve their torment.”

Poor Walda. Her fate was to die by dogs. This time she was saved and would die another day. She had been a gentle woman. Too gentle for Roose Bolton. 

Roose would have been an alright husband. She was meant to be safe from the horrors of the flayed man but in the end everyone perished. No one was safe wherever Ramsay was. Ramsay killed everyone who got in his way. No matter how small the inconvenience was if you made one wrong move then you were done. One way or another you’d end up on his wrong side. 

Everyone except him. 

Theon survived Ramsay. 

“You’re very kind.” She told him.

Was it to become tradition for women to constantly tell him how kind he was? Was he so much of and asshole in his previous life? 

Since she was heading to the Iron Islands technically she was his last chance to send word to Yara. He couldn’t waste this opportunity. 

“Before you depart to the iron Islands. I was wondering if you could give my sister something when you arrive.”

“Of course. I would do anything to honour the wishes of my soon-to-be husband.” She was like Sansa in the sense that she had been raised with unrealistic ideals of marriage. She thought that perhaps men would have treated her with kindness but she soon learned the world was not as it was in storybooks. Men were cruel and women were even crueller. 

Theon was one of the few men she had met who was like the princes in the storybooks. 

Theon walked into his tent and rummaged around for a bit through his drawer. Jeyne and Walda looked on as he threw out several clothing outfits in favour of a small cloth bad with something heavy inside of it. He handed her the medium sized bag the contents of which were unknown.

She looked into the bag and felt it for a second. She had to make sure she was seeing it correctly. 

“Are you sure she's going to know what this is?” It didn’t make sense to anyone but them.

“Trust me she'll get it when she sees it.”

 

“I must be on my way then. My boat leaves in the morning for the Iron islands.” 

She was intimidated. She hadn’t left the Frey’s land before this so she was nervous about going somewhere completely foreign, especially considering it was enemy territory. 

“I look forward to seeing you again Lady Walda.” He kissed her hand and she shied away from him. She wasn’t used to such gentlemen like affection. She giggled and pulled her hand away.

“And you Lord Theon. I pray I can be a good wife.” It was her only dream. She wished to be a wife who her husband would be proud of and lots of children they would be able to call their own. A huge castle as well to sweeten the deal.

“You’ll be a good wife one day.”

She left them behind. 

“What happens to Lady Walda? Once I’m dead.” A question he found himself asking a lot once he met somebody he knew he would never see again.

He often wondered how his death would affect all of these people. Yara most of all. He’d like to think that his sister would mourn his death. It wouldn’t matter he supposed but it was a nice thing to think about himself being remembered after his death. Other people would be affected too. His mother...His father...Jon.

His father wouldn’t care that’s for sure. He’d been disowned in this life and the past one. It seemed an inevitable event. Carelessly he’d been tossed aside in favour of the living child. The favourite golden girl. The one who always made father proud. 

Out of the moment of darkness Jeyne explained. 

“She goes on to take up residence within the Iron Islands. She trains and puts her strength to becoming a warrior...It doesn’t work out but she does have a good eye for money and politics. Yara’s right hand woman. They respect her so much. In fact she manages to convince the Dornish to send grain during a famine.”

“Do them…Yara and Walda that is…” Theon didn't want to ask it. He didn’t want to know whether or not his sister would end up seducing his betrothed, knowing her she likely would. Jeyne didn’t cop on at first. Theon rubbed his neck and coughed. 

Jeyne patted his back gently. “No. They didn’t do that but they are very good friends. Yara is a woman seductress but she wouldn’t sleep with her would be sister in law.”

They looked at the girl with a happy smirk on her face. A smile really could make someone shine. 

At least she was able to get her happy ending. 

A happy ending.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter: A confession...


	19. Theon's Tent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Confessions...

The winds were changing. Everyone knew it. Winter was fast approaching and everyone just wanted to go home before they would freeze to death in the bitter cold. There was a war to be won and if they won the war then they’d be able to get all the meat and warmth that came from King's Landing. That was a prize worth fighting for in the eyes of the men.

Theon and Jeyne were getting ready for the wedding. He was wearing the best outfit that he had. It was nothing too fancy but it did have a lot of silk on it. He might as well be comfortable the day he was going to be murdered. Jeyne too had decided to dress up for the occasion. Instead of wearing her dull Brown dress as she always did. Now she was dressed in the finest dress she could think of. It looked like something that lady Sansa would wear only instead of Stark colours it was a vibrant blue and white, she was representing her house well.

Her face made up. You could hardly notice her frostbitten nose. 

Though they may have looked well the mood in the tent was that of Darkness.

“It’s going to end soon.” Theon said somber. 

“Aye.” she didn't want it to be the end. They had grown so close over the time spent together and it was hard to believe that soon their little adventure would be over. It had just been yesterday when they’d been exploring winterfell. 

She had just been crying heavily so her two blue eyes were red and puffy. She sniffled and Theon placed hand to her cheek and gave a small rub. Both people were overflowing with uncertainty but in the end they both knew it had to be done.

“Well at least a couple of people can survive. Robb’s wife included.”

“You can save Talisa?” Theon knew he could change a couple of things but this was something he never would have thought possible. He could save someone from the nightmarish events that were to befall them.

“You remember how the gods said certain things could be changed?” Jeyne was going to go on with this somewhere but he didn’t know where exactly.

A sudden energy filled him and he sprung up from his bed. He needed to pace around and ask as many questions as he could about this. Out of all the things to be changed he couldn't believe that Talisa was the one that he could save. Ironic. He oculd save his love’s lover. 

“Do it! Or how do I do it?” He needed to know. If he could save at least one person it would make everything better.

“Call her out of the hall when the bells stop sounding. Then I will send her away on a horse. I can guide the horse to the wall. Animals can see me remember.”

He did know that animals could see her fully well. He’d seen her cuddling Greywind more times than Robb ever did.

“You do have a way with animals.” Theon chuckled quietly, remembering how she had acted whenever she had been around the excitable Dire wolf puppies. Lady was her favourite. 

He sighed. 

“I’m not ready to die again Jeyne.” It was true. Out of all the things he had anticipated his fear for this day was something he thought would have been smaller. His whole body felt like it was submerged in water and breathing felt like the most impossible thing in the entire world. Like when he died by Euron’s battle scarred hand. 

He had many thoughts about this and it had only felt a short amount of time since he had actually gotten here. There were so many things that he didn’t get to do and so many people he didn’t get making amends with.

“The one good thing about the Dreadfort was it kept you away from all of this.” As much as she tried to find something positive this was the only upside that she could think of.

“I suppose it did. Then again it didn’t matter much in the long run. I died regardless.” Death seems to follow him wherever he went. It seemed an unavoidable aspect of life. She didn’t want to die either. Such a pointless waste of life.

Robb came up to the outside of the tent and he called out.

“Theon are you decent?” He asked knocking on the fabric.

Theon found the wording very odd. He didn’t see why Robb didn't just walk in. He was so used to people like Ramsay and the bastard boys walking in on him that he didn’t see much of a problem with it. In fact he was almost expecting people to do it by default. Having that part of respected privacy was sort of nice.

Around the Dreadfort it was common for people to see him without a shirt on at the very most. Whether it was Ramsay deciding to strip him for a laugh or to show off his work to a passing lord people saw his upper scars. As for the lower ones…. well...He didn't like to think about those times. His mind on the other hand simply loved to repeat them over and over in his head at the worst moments. 

Thankfully there was humour to help him out. Or at the very most make it less.

“Decent? If you remember correctly there's nothing to hide.” Theon said jokingly. He heard Robb’s short gasp followed by the silence and slight grumbling. Theon found something interesting about his condition. When he made his own humour then it surprisingly didn’t hurt as much as when others said it and even in some cases made him better able to take the others joke to a certain degree.

“Theon…” Robb asked again, his courtesy still not letting him enter the tent. Perhaps he still wanted a moment so Theon would be spared from seeing how his face looked.

Theon sighed and looked at Jeyne. Jeyne knew he shouldn’t have been teasing him like this but he couldn't help it.

She was mouthing something about him being cruel to him. He stuck his tongue out as he put his trousers on. This is what he considered decent enough as he couldn’t quite see where his blasted tunic had gone yet he had kept Robb waiting outside for quite some while now.

“That joke was in poor taste. I apologize. Humour makes it seem better than it is. Yes you can come in.” Theon said knowing Robb would give him a lecture if he didn’t. That was one part he took from his mother for sure, apart from the mop of silky ginger hair.

“It’s alright.” Robb could see that Theon was trying to cope in his mind but the jokes were just edging on uncomfortable with him.

Theon didn’t have a shirt on so all of his torso was on display. Theon felt deeply uncomfortable. He didn’t think that it would be that bad seeing as Robb had seen it before. Thankfully faking his confidence made it seem less than it actually was. The king remained silent of all questions. Robb had observed them several times and had even placed a gloved hand on one once but each glance turned into a hate filled glare. These weren’t directed at Theon however. It was towards the one who created him. The cowardly king on the salt throne Balon Greyjoy.

Theon wished they could have been directed towards Ramsay Bolton but he supposed he could just make pretend that this was Robb’s intent.

“If your eyes are the shore then I’m the beach.” He said when Robb was a little bit too silent for too long.

Robb assumed this was some kind of Greyjoy language he hadn’t picked up on. Water puns wasn't quite something he had grasped onto. Maybe it was because instead of the warm beaches he was raised on the snow covered plains.

“Because they keep drifting towards me.” Theon said as his eyes finally located the shirt he had been missing this whole conversation.

Robb looked away with shame but there was no hiding the light pink tint that spread across his cheeks. Theon was hoping that it was more out of bashfulness rather than him being embarrassed.

Robb had his own feelings towards Theon in a sense. Theon did awaken something in him. Theon was always to be there as a part of his life. If he were to die for real then Robb would have fallen into a deep despair not even his mother could soothe.

Speaking of romance that was the reason he was here.

“Anyway it's Edmure’s wedding day. The wedding will be over by the day that you’re done getting ready. ” Robb could see he must have only started to get ready recently. It was a little unfair on him that Theon had the pleasure of sleeping in while he was forced to get up at the crack of dawn.

“I know. I’m nearly done.”

Robb looked about the tent as Theon got the rest of his gear on. He had either done it out of boredom or curiosity. Robb had that look about him. He was missing something. It seemed in this case that the thing he was missing was information.

“Did you have someone in here with you?” He asked while mindlessly playing with one of the books Theon kept on a desk.

“Why do you ask?” Theon asked.

“I heard you saying someone had a way with animals.”

Theon paused in lacing up the front of his outfit. He didn’t realise that Robb had been there to hear that part of the conversation. He thought he had been pretty quiet with her too. He had to come up with something quick he could say. He couldn’t say he was alone the whole time or he would call bullshit on the whole thing.

“You just missed her. She snuck off the back when she heard you left your ragged mutt all alone in your tent.” This was another one of those half-truths he would come up with. Technically given the opportunity Jeyne would have run off to go play with her favourite animal in the whole of the seven kingdoms.

“Ragged mutt? You were there since he was a pup. If anyone is the ragged mutt it is you.” Robb said.

“Aye and I’ve been beaten like one as well.” Theon laughed but Robb went silent, his smile falling to a neutral line. Shifting to the side of being uncomfortable. Even though he couldn't see Robb’s face he assumed it was very awkward. Robb was still trying to adjust to Theon’s morbid humour.

Theon looked Robb dead in the eyes when he was finally done looking at his scars. He didn’t want it to be this way but they couldn’t avoid the elephant in the room for much longer.

“How- Are your scars?” Robb felt obligated as a king and as a dear friend to ask about his state constantly. Theon often found it grating how many people were sick enough to want to see his body. He could understand the maester but random soldiers were something else altogether.

 

“They’re healing. I’m healing.” He gave the response as flat as he could to dismay Robb from asking more. Robb could pick up on his friends tone and withdrew any further questions he may have had.

Robb was glad to see his best friend finally getting over all the terrible things that have happened. Seeing Theon smiling also helped to relieve some of his own guilt. After all it was Robb’s fault he was in the situation in the first place

“Will a feast fix it?”

 

“I think that it will.”

“Good. Why were you so late waking up this morning?” He asked absentmindedly changing the subject on to something more light-hearted.

Robb was going to be dead by the moonlight tonight and Theon felt awful he wasn’t able to tell him anything about what was to become of him. He couldn't leave Robb without any answers of what was to happen but he also couldn’t betray the gods demand.

 

“I had a dream.” Theon whispered.

Robb looked curiously at him. It was an unusual thing to say. Theon never spoke of such things like dreams or magic. Or at least he never used too. Recently though he had been showing a certain interest in things like dragons and magic.Perhaps he’d begun to fantasize about the Targaryen girl. 

He sat down and decided to indulge Theon and ask about what he was dreaming about.

“What was the dream?”

“There were two people. A disgraced princess and a prince disguised as a lowborn. Both of them had no idea the other existed.”

This would be a tale for the ages. A tale of living vs the dead. A game of thrones. A song of ice and fire. Only now looking back did it seem like a whimsical fairy tales.

Jeyne could see what he was doing and though it was a risky thing to do it wasn't against the rules as technically he wasn't telling anyone about the future or the red wedding. It was simply a story that was eerily similar to events that would happen long after his death. Why would Robb believe a dream to be real?

“The prince grew up as a stable boy under the guise of his lord. The Lord had made a promise to keep him safe no matter what. However when people came close to discovering his heritage the Lord of the house sent him away. He joined a group of other men who were outcast.” First he wanted to get Jon out of the way first or he felt like he would forget to mention him. Also he was a major character in the story he was creating. Though he had to change his status a little bit. Robb could get a little jealous if he told him about another king in the North.

Robb nodded his head to show that he was understanding so far.

“One day he was murdered by his own men. He was doing too much good and then the evils of the world came in and gave him six stab wounds across the chest, one right into his pure heart. He was dead for a whole five whole days. Until a flame came along and brought him back to life. The flame dubbed him the prince that would unite the kingdoms.

Robb had only seen one person come back to life before and that was the man before him. Robb rarely believed in dreams meaning anything but this could have meant something important.

“This man became the king of the place he was raised in. After a tiresome battle with a mad lord who had taken over by marrying the prince's sister.”

Sansa. Pure sweet Sansa. 

“The half-sister was in her own peril. She was married off by a bad man to hopefully get more power. All the time she was cast away she was forced to confront a person who had betrayed her very badly and her whole family as well. The servant was begging for any form of forgiveness because he regretted what he did very badly.”

Theon spoke softly of the servant but didn’t shy away from putting him in the wrong for what had happened.

“What did the servant do? To the girl’s family?” Robb asked.

 

“He killed their father though no one realised that he was alive. The servant had to pretend like he had killed him to keep a hold onto his power.” Theon was replacing the boys in the situation. The boys who he regretted every day. Even though they were killed by Yara this time around he should have been able to stop it from happening. Maybe he should have told her to find some boys recently deceased and work from there.

He took a gulp and continued.

“The servant was then captured by a horrible man. The mad man. He was a gluttonous, vengeful monster who took great pleasure in watching the man suffer. The man learned the error of his ways. When the girl came he knew he had to save her any way he could.” A tear came to his eyes but he wiped it away. He couldn’t be seen getting emotional over a silly little dream.

“He helped her escape and they travelled each back to their homes. The Girl was welcomed with open arms while the servant was greeted coldly by his sister. He tried to explain himself but she rejected him at first.”

“At first?” At the indication there was more to happen he was practically begging for more information.

“He helped his sister to rise to power. He no longer cared about status or titles. All he wanted was to be home and rest.” Somewhere somehow out there Yara was in power and hopefully still alive. She would take control of the ironborn. Maybe she was sitting on the beach with a child and husband or wife, taking in the lightly salted smell of the air. Enjoying her newly found freedom.

Theon was missing this Yara every single day too but at least he could take comfort in knowing that she had no reason for going to the Dreadfort and putting her at risk of being with Ramsay Bolton. She would be fine until Euron would come about.

“Is there no one who would help the lad?” Robb asked. He knew a dream could only hold so much information but there was no harm in getting all the details.

“He did love someone once…He should have died with his love.”

It was a tragic love story. Two people who were both doomed to die. One had to live on knowing that the other was to perish. This tale had a happier ending. At least at the very end they would be reunited. Or at least he hoped that he would be.

“But what about the princess? You haven’t mentioned her yet.” Robb said. Robb felt like he was five years old again. His legs were crossed underneath his body while listening to every single word that Theon was saying. He may have been a king and a war commander but it was nice just to have a break for once and enjoy a good story.

Theon felt foolish he had forgotten about describing Daenerys. She was technically more important than both him and Jon. After all she was the one who had the dragons and the best chance of defeating the Night's King

“Her tale began when her family were at war with another family. They sent the children away to another land to keep them safe. The daughter was arranged to be married to a foreign lord to acquire his army. She was unhappy at first.”

Robb didn’t recognise that it was a tale about the supposed dragon queen.

The romance was bad at first but soon they began to understand each other and soon they became a family with children. However her family was taken away.”

“In her vengeance she promised to fulfil her husband’s goal of reclaiming the land.” Theon had talked with Daenerys a lot during their time at Dragonstone and they’d been able to find some common ground. Mainly about their families.

She told him it was okay that they had lost everything. She had lost everything once too and she had been able to build herself up again. Theon wanted to be like her in so many ways. She commanded armies, helped those in need and was completely loved by everyone. She had lost her blood family but gained another so much more worth fighting for.

Theon and her even had a joke that if she got her dragons eggs at her wedding then Theon should be able to receive some kraken eggs and hope that they hatch. Daenerys knew of his past and while she highly objected to his actions he had paid for them and she saw the suffering he had been going through.

Robb was completely entranced by the tale.

“Along the way she had three more children who helped her in her quest. They weren’t born of her but they were her children.”

“How did the two meet? The prince and the princess. Was it fate?” Robb wanted to know everything about the dream. His eyes were widened in anticipation and he was waiting for every word. Those sweet, sweet eyes. 

“The princess managed to make her way to the mainland and the prince was having trouble with another army. An army that relied on magic instead of metal to win their battles.”

The white walkers were something Theon wished he could forget. The sight of the Wight’s decaying flesh without a single bit of sympathy in their entire bodies. And the leaders who commanded them the White Walkers with eyes as blue as the ocean. It was like a straight line of blue reflective glass in his eyes. He’s seen the walkers as he died. There were ones walking on frozen water as he plunged into the waters below.

“The two joined forces and….” Theon wanted to tell Robb they lived happily ever after. It would have been natural to want a happy ending but it wasn't the truth. The servant who observed all these events was dispatched before he saw the defeat of the enemy.

 

“Well go on! How does the tale end?” Robb needed an ending and he needed it now. He couldn’t wait another moment to hear how the tales of wars and love ended.

Robb looked so captivated but he couldn’t finish his epic tale.

Theon’s face dropped a little bit as he saw that Robb was going to be disappointed. Truth be told he had no idea how the tale was to end. In his mind he hoped that somehow some way all the people he knew were able to survive. It was a general fact that there would have been heavy casualties in war. In any conflict blood had to be spilled. If any one word has survived it should have been Jon. After all the true King should have been given his throne. Daenerys maybe would have lived with her two dragons by her side.

“I woke up before anything was to happen. The last thing I saw was the former servant being killed by the pirate king. An axe.” He put a hand on his chest but then put his hands back to his side. Robb would have noticed the slight movement.

“Shame. It sounds like a grand old tale.” Robb had been so into the story he forgot that this was something that Theon had dreamt off. It was like he had found a book filled with unheard of history. Robb was thinking of how realistically it would end.

 

“It was. Half of it is escaping me now.” He lied. His time in the past was more vivid than ever.

Robb was sad he didn’t get the ending he wanted but he could still ask about more things that happened in the tale.

“Do you remember how big the army was? Of the enemy?”

“100,000 strong men.” It wans’t even close to the sheer number of dead that had been raised. 

The army of the Dead might have been impressive had it not belong to such a horrific enemy. He remembered seeing them all as they approached Pyke. A truly horrifying display. Even Euron had been shaken at how many were upon them so suddenly.

“And how many did the prince and princess have?”

 

“I don't know. About 50,000.” He wasn't sure they had so many heavy losses but it was hard to remember. It seemed so long ago. It was so long ago. It was hard to believe that so much time had passed since then. He’d lived his second life yet it only felt like the snap of his fingers when he woke up in that oh so soft brown wolf fur in Winterfell.

The Greyjoy fleet had helped all they could but sadly they suffered a great loss too. All those brave kraken soldiers, soldiers of the drowned god going out to fight on his behalf against those who would freeze over his own hall.

“Oh...Then they would have lost.” it was a shame that the enemy had the majority as it would have been grand after everything the human side had been through for them to finally be able to live in peace

“Not necessarily. They had magic on their side as well. I’m sure they’re fine. Living happily together as they take the throne.” it was wishful thinking but it wasn't like it matters now anyway. He could picture it now. Jon sitting on the iron throne as Dany was on a throne by his side. Their child riding on Ghosts back. The one true family who could bring peace to the lands.

“Well as much as we are enthralled by your tale of wars and kings but now we have to think about the real war. The war that will break out between Edmure and his bride if she isn't pretty enough.”

Robb sat back and took it all in. He was thinking. He looked at theon seemingly ignoring the sarcastic quip. 

 

“You don’t have to fight anymore.” Robb said morosely. He couldn’t let him go without saying it first. The impression that Robb had got was that Theon was simply sick of the fighting. His mind was finally telling him that he had done enough and could finally leave it all behind him. Dreams always had to mean something no matter how weird they were.

 

“If you really want to you don’t have to be involved in this war anymore. I would gladly send you to Essos and wait out the rest of the war.” Robb meant that from the deepest bottom of his heart. If it made Theon feel better then he would do it for him even if it meant losing someone dear to him.

“I can’t. We can’t break anymore promises to Lord Walder. I’m promised to Lady Walder.” He wanted freedom but Freedom was hard to come by these days.

 

“You’ve done so much and I’ve only given you pain in return.” This was what stung Robb the most. He’d gone through physical torture for him. Suffered injuries that would last him the rest of his days. 

“You can do something for me.”

 

“Anything. You name it.

 

“Answer me one question.”

 

Rob nodded in agreement with this contract.

“Why did you marry Talisa?” He asked without a moment of hesitation. They’d both been sitting on the bed and Robb refused to turn his head to Theon.It was a good question which he didn’t know the answer for. He’d needed the moment to ask and now seemed like a better moment then most.

 

  
“I think I love you.”

 

 

Robb confessed.

It had taken a lot of time and thinking but he’d finally come to the realisation that it must be what he was feeling for Theon. The feeling he got from Talisa was the same feeling he’d had for the Greyjoy ever since he’d come back to the camp a bleeding mess. Nearly losing he had sent him into a near state of shock. He wept knowing he was dead but then again he cried out with joy knowing he was alive. That warm feeling he got any time he was smiling. 

Theon was frozen in his spot. When his anxiety spiked up he would normally just rely on rubbing his stubs for comfort but he couldn't move. This certainly didn’t happen in the last timeline.  
Robb had just confessed that he loved him...In more than the brotherly way he was accustomed to.

 

“No. No don’t do this.” Theon muttered. They were going to die soon and now Robb decided to mention this tiny important detail.

“I married her because I thought my feelings would be clearer but I’ve never been more confused in my life. When you spoke so freely about how you didn’t care who you loved, it inspired me. I came to realize that my feelings for you were okay. I can say it out loud. I love you.”

Theon grabbed the sheets hard. So much was happening in the one moment it was hard for him to begin processing this information.

“I can’t deny it. I feel for you the same way I do for my wife.” Robb said again. He still loved Talisa dearly but he could never sleep again knowing that a part of him would always be cowardly for not confessing. He was speaking with such regret but passion. It was the truth he was finally admitting to himself and it was so freeing to say it out loud.

The wolf watched as the krakens face remained unchanged still having that shocked expression plastered over him. He did hear Theon’s breathing change. His heart was beating ever so fast. Much faster and it would have stopped all together

It was a surprise attack. A heart attack.

 

Theon couldn't believe it. Robb was confessing to him! He had prayed for it for every day and every night that Robb would come to this conclusion but now that it happened he didn’t know what he should do. Rob was pouring out his heart and he was just sitting there silent listening to the words.

“You do?” Theon asked, his voice tinted with a slight wobble. He rubbed his finger.

“I do. But I made a vow to Talisa and I love her. I have to honour that vow.” Robb was disappointed in himself, he'd made a reckless decision, endangered this whole War and killed his brothers all because he wasn't sure about who he loved. It was foolish and selfish. His mother was right. He could have avoided all of this had he just gone with the Fray bride. To choose between Talisa and Theon was tearing him apart.

He only chose the Volantis girl because between the two of them he still had a chance at leading the men if he chose a normal female bride. To choose two Kings in the North would only cause panic and uncertainty about the future. Who would provide an heir? Would they have equal power?

It was at moments like that Robb envied Jon. Jon was a simple bastard. He could do whatever he liked whenever he liked as long as he abandoned Winterfell.

If he had been a bastard then maybe the relationship with Theon could have been easier.

That wasn't to say he didn't love Talisa. He loved her so much. A kind warm smile that seemed to be constantly on, her personality where everyone was of equal worth in her eyes and her warm touch. They had truly deeply fallen in love. Robb had asked Talisa what she thought of Theon to see if it was simply possible there could be an attraction.

All Talisa said was that he was a good man but not her type. She felt so much pity for him she couldn't see him as anything else. It was in her nature she's supposed. She was a nurse who had too much empathy. 

 

“If it happens that Talisa and Lady Walda die I want to be with you and for you to be with me. If that’s how you feel. In secret.”

Of course it would have to be a secret. Why couldn’t they go out in the open and a hot sunny day and kiss each other in front of the Crowd? No it always had to be that way. When he was king he would pave the way to change the stigma of it all. No matter what the seven dictated him to do. 

 

“I love you and I love my wife. If only we could all be together.” Robb had tried to think many times

“Robb….”

Robb was going to kiss then on the head but he needed to hold back. If he gave in now but surely he wouldn't have stopped at Just a Kiss. He wanted Theon knowing now what he knew. He was a proud king who happened to have affection for both men and women and he would be honoured to have Theon be his first male kiss. It would be a moment he could remember and cherish forever.

He was a married man and he wanted to be loyal to his loving wife whom he loved in return.

“I’m sorry. I haven't even let you voice your opinion of this. You can leave if you want. I’m sorry I shouldn't have done this. It’s just coming so close to your wedding and this would be my last chance to tell you. God I’m almost as bad as Ramsay Snow.” Robb said offhandedly. He was going to kiss Theon without knowing if he wanted it or not.

Theon got serious as he grabbed Robb by his shoulders and made him look into his eyes.

“You are nothing. Nothing! Like Ramsay Snow. Robb I love you. You are my love. I struggled with my feelings before and something terrible happened because of it. I'm not making the same mistake again. You are so much better than you know. ” Theon made sure he was addressing Robb as closely as he possibly could.

“What mistakes did you make before? Not a bad one I hope.” Robb asked.

It doesn't matter all that matters now is we know the feeling is the same between us. I can't wait for the day we can be together.”

Robb could picture it now. The two of them old men in the bedroom of the red keep. They’d visit the gardens on their days off and complement the flowers, they’d have dinner in the main hall and talk about how the fish was okay but it wasn’t an ironborn catch and the way they could just be alone together. Seeing Theon smile would be the most peaceful thing to see in his older years

 

“I hope it's coming soon.”

“I’m sorry. I made you be the best man at my wedding. That must have destroyed you.” Robb’s guilt on the surface. 

Theon didn’t answer the question

“Will this change anything between us? What if I see you tomorrow and I can't speak to you? “He needed to ask. There is no way they could just go back to normality after this comment. Their feelings were out in the open. He suppose it didn’t matter but still it would be nice to know. They’d be dead before tomorrow. 

“Will you make things awkward?”

Things would different now their feelings would be out in the open.

“No. Will you?”

“For now you are my friend. If we treat each other as such then I think the waiting won't be so bad.”

Robb left the tent but he just before closing the flaps of the tent. Despite knowing Theon for almost 10 years he still couldn't read that face. His lips were just a couple moments away from quivering, his eyes looking like hope and happiness yet somehow it was reflecting fear.

That face was devastation. He couldn't believe anything that had just transpired. he was only trying to tell Rob about the future, give him assurance that everyone was going to be alright even if it was fake he could still picture Arya in Bravos, Sansa as the queen of Winterfell and Jon. His dearest half-brother still alive the king of the North while marrying his long lost aunt Daenerys.

This was the worst thing to ever happen to Theon. Ramsay had been cruel to him in many ways but no trick he could have pulled matched up to the utter betrayal that was known only by the name of fate. This was unnecessarily cruel. Having Robb confess his love with the Red Wedding approaching so quickly.

Theon grabbed the nearest pillow he could and began to punch at it violently. His body had so many emotions that they were taking turns holding control. Happiness was at the helm of his mind but anger at the unfairness of the situation threatening that control. His voice was so desperate to cry so hard that no sound was able to come out. Not a whimper or a yell.

 

“Why did he confess to me Jeyne?”

“I thought that's what you wanted. Rob to love you and you too love him in return. You don't understand. The Red Wedding.” He couldn't continue his sentence. It was far too sad for him to even bare. If only he'd known that Robb had felt this way for some time then maybe he could have done something different. He could have told Robb everything before it all went down the drain things could have been better. They still would have died but it would have been together. Holding his hand until the bitter end

“Oh no…” She muttered seeing as her friend was close to losing it entirely.

“The Red Wedding is today…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Red Wedding


	20. The Halls of the Frey's

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Red Wedding is upon them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. We're finally here. Took longer than expected but with everyones wonderful support and comments its finally done. I can't thank all my readers enough. With that said on with the show! TW: angst my dudes

They had arrived at the twins early in the day. Theon was on his own horse while Robb, Talisa, Edmure and Catelyn all decided to travel together in a carriage and discuss their own plans. Robb had offered that Edmure take another carriage but Theon had instead that it was only right that the family be together and discuss their strategy. Robb could hear the hurt in his voice whenever he mentioned only blood family.

Robb did consider him family after everything he had done for him. It almost seemed that Theon was actively rejecting his bloodline. Robb could see it was good for the Starks it was destroying him internally. Ripping his heart to shreds but Theon wore a smile through it all, as if he was relaxing on a summer's afternoon. He hoped this wasn’t because of yesterday’s interaction.

When Robb stepped out of the small box Theon nearly took another panic attack when he saw what he was wearing. The clothes he was wearing was the clothes that Ramsay had told him to wear to Sansa’s wedding. He found it hard to look anywhere but his face. Robb took notice but in his mind it was that Theon hated his outfit choice and he was grateful enough to take of the cloak if it made him more comfortable. Theon seemed relieved when the small wolf shaped clasps went away but the uneasiness didn’t leave in full. He knew how it felt against his skin, scratchy.

They came to a small stop as they waited for the gates to be opened.

They were led to where the main event was to happen. The Hall of the Frey’s. Theon halted himself before going in. Robb and the others were walking on into the hall while he decided he would have to go to the side for a second. There was one person he would have to say goodbye to. A farewell he didn’t want to make.

He went into a small shaded spot by the trees where no one would bother him. Most would probably assume he had stopped to take a piss and no one would want to see that at all, knowing that it was a mangled mess down there.

Jeyne and him both looked at each other as the winds began to pick up on them. Her hair was still floating in its proper place. Still looking as graceful as ever. Though when they had first met she still looked like a mouse who was facing its own mortality. Now she seemed like a lioness, full of confidence and pride. Theon had grown a genuine friendship with her but this would probably be the last time that they would get to speak together.

“This is goodbye I suppose.” Theon said.

“I suppose it is.” Jeyne’s eyes had been on his but she had to advert them away. She didn’t want their last minutes together to be sad ones and if she were to look in those puppy dog eyes she would shed enough tears that not even the Frey’s bridge would be able to stand against it.

“I’m...I’m going to miss you Jeyne.” Theon said trying not to tear up.

“And I you. Send Jeyne Westerling out and I’ll get her sorted.”

“You mean Talisa?” He said, a wetness in his voice but trying to joke. Personally he surprised himself at how he managed to still have any water left in him after all the times he had cried previously.

She choked back her emotions and wiped away her non-existent tears. “They’re the same person they just bare different names.” She rolled her eyes sarcastically at him for one last little joke. Their humour was so similar.

“Greyjoy! You’re holding back the men. Hurry up.” He could hear one of the guards yelling at him. She looked back to see that one of the older men was trying to spot where he was to no avail. She had grown to be a close friend to him and it would be a shame to see her go so soon alas it had to be done and though they would miss each other they would take comfort in knowing the fact that each other was safe.

Theon opened his arms for one last hug with her. Jean gave him a smile and hugged him tight. Refusing to let go for a solid minute. Her nails digging into his back.

When they let go they wiped away each other's tears.

His voice was changing. “I’d better go.”It would be selfish to ask her to stay. they promised they'd be together till the end but he knew how hard it would be for her to watch him die. she had seen enough death and horrors in one night but if he could do her one kindness it would be to spare her this tragedy.

“Aye. I wish you all the best Not-my-Theon.” She took a small courtesy before him as he laughed. She couldn't help but shake.

“Likewise Not my Sansa. I perhaps may see you a little bit before the wedding.” He shot back with a quickness. It was foolish to hope but hoping would help him out a lot.

She nodded.

Theon went to re-join the men in the hall and he took on last look back as she was waving goodbye. She was beside Greywinds cage so there was no doubt in Theon’s mind who she’d be spending the afternoon with while he was in the hall. Greywind would be getting lots of cuddles and maybe Jeyne would let him free as Theon doubted Greywind living would change much at all.

They went into the hall and Theon watched as the sun was in the sky. As soon as it came up it could only come down now. The night was starting.

The Red Wedding was about to begin.

\----------------------------

They entered the Grand Hall watched the wedding. Edmure had clearly been on edge thinking about what woeful bride awaited him.

The wedding had begun at this point and everything seemed to be going smoothly. Robb and Catelyn watched as young Edmure cloaked his even younger bride. Theon tried to watch the cloaking ceremony but she was so small and fragile. Much like Sansa had been. Theon flinched involuntarily as he heard the gods being rattled off. Only Catelyn seemed to notice this and she went to touch him but he had to move away from her.

This will have been two times that Theon went to a wedding which would end up with him being destroyed one way or another.

The small girl walk down the hall. No one knew what she looks like all except him and Walder.

It was a drastic change when he lifted up to veil and saw the beauty beneath it. She was young perhaps a bit too young but she wasn't as bad as some of the younger ones so it really was a happy medium.

Rosalin what's the type of girl that perhaps he might have hit on in his youth. Even try to get into her panties if he was in that type of mood. He couldn't believe what a prick he was in his youth but this was something that was in the past. The older version of him was long gone buried beneath layers of broken Theon. It was so far back he almost forgot it existed.

Theon watched as the bride was wrapped around in the cloak and the ceremony was dubbed to be finished. He couldn't quite believe it was done. It all passed by in a flash.

Time was beginning to slip away from him. The awareness was catching up with him. It had only felt like a week ago that he had been waking up in Winterfell, encased in wolf skin. He didn't want this to be the end now. He still had so much that he wanted to do and wanted to say.

He wasn’t going out with a single regret so he prioritised what he wanted to do.

There was only one thing that really mattered and it was something he would leave until the last moment. With his dying breath.

As he looked back they had sealed their marriage with a kiss on the lips. With that fated kiss Edmure had sealed his fate to be subjected to a life in the rat ridden dungeons.

They said the vows in front of the seven, it was much alike Robb and Talisa's wedding on a much larger scale. Theon wondered why they would waste so much gold on something they knew was going to end up being a bloodbath. He supposed they wanted to keep up the appearance then they had to play the part.

The Feast had begun and all was well. Everyone in the room had a smile for one reason or another. The first reason could be that they were having a good time and didn't have to think about the Lannister’s or anyone else only how much wine they could drink and how much meat they could gorge themselves on.

For smiling because of the anticipation wait to unsheathe their knives murderous betrayal off their friends. They were simply itching for a fight, their bodies and Minds were blood hungry.

Theon was the only one in the entire room who had a sombre mood.

Caitlin seem to be able to notice first but she assumed it was because of the conversation they had had previously about how he wasn't sure of the whole marriage. Marriage made him uneasy.

Robb and Talisa had been sitting at the front table and talking about who was who and who was important or scandalous.

Theon was drinking one cup of wine. He had been pacing himself throughout the night.

“Ow.” Talisa said as she grabbed her stomach.

“Are you alright?”

“The baby is just restless. That’s all. I may go out for a walk.”

“Hey Talisa. There’s a girl I promised to meet outside by Greywind. Could you bring out this note? Sorry it’s just you’re already going out and I promised Cat I would keep out of trouble? It’s just a note saying I’ll meet her a little bit later on. Perhaps when your mother has retired for the evening.” He winked at Robb and said it suggestively.

Robb was a little hurt. Was he really moving on so quick. He knew they agreeded but it still felt weird.

He poked his elbow into Robb’s abdomen

Talisa gave Theon a look of suspicion. Her eyes looked over his body for a second but she then gave him a smile letting him know that it would be okay. She took the paper from his hand and read it. Nothing of importance just literally what he had told her.

Robb gave Theon the biggest smile seeing him get back in the romance game. Robb seemed confused as to how Theon could do the deed but with a quick flick of Theon’s tongue Robb immediately got the idea of what he was trying to say. He let her go.

She only managed to move a couple of steps before she stopped and turned back to him, her dress moving with her in a swift motion.

“Of course. I will be back soon. Make sure my husband doesn’t start talking with other girls. A king can be led astray” Talisa mocked. Robb choked while Theon smirked. She really was just such an innocent girl. A smartass perhaps but a innocent girl.

“Goodbye Talisa.”

“You make it sound so final.” She shrugged it off as a joke but Theon waved for her to go. Her safety would mean someone else survived and that was all he truly wanted for her. Theon gave a small laugh and he sent her on her way. Naturally she found this odd but she chose not to question it.

Robb sat back down beside Theon and he took a quick glance to see that his wife was no longer in the hall. It had been a while since it had just been him and Theon alone together to talk about things.

 

-

 

Theon walked outside.

“Jeyne have you got her okay?”

“Of course I do.”

Theon saw a cart going past. There seemed to be a young boy crouching beside the barrels of wine . They were loading up their cart with things seemingly like a diversion of some kind to distract the Stark soldiers. Theon was trying to think what could be happening.

After a closer look it wasn’t a boy at all. he's squinted his eyes to make sure his eyes were not deceiving him.

“Wait a moment...is that?”

Theon’s eyes could only just about see the figure who was riding in on the cart. By all the gods it was Arya Stark in the flesh. true she was a lot dirtier and her hair was cut short hair but he couldn’t forget the significance Stark features. She had been there for the slaughter. She had seen her brother and mother killed. Slain by traitorous hands. He wanted to talk to her do anything but he had learned. he reached out but forced himself to turn away. he knew she survived the Carnage but he still wanted to tell her it would work out. she was only a young thing and she wouldn't have a friend for a long time.

How she survived was a god given miracle. Not many of the North had survived the event. Jeyne saw what she assumed was the boy and made the connection. Theon had drunkenly told her the story one night of how arya had apparently spent a lot of time living as a boy to travel safer.

“I’ll make sure she’s safe.” Jeyne said looking to the girl but she had been informed that Sandor saved her anyway so she was only saying this as further reassurance for him. Jeyne kissed Theon on the cheek before leaving to go get a horse. as much as he wanted to stay with her he knew he had to go the bells would be chiming soon.

Theon nodded and went back into the hall to finally await his fate. He would enjoy the hours he had left of this life.   
-

 

The time passed in the hall and Theon found himself rather enjoying himself. He was well fed and the wine seemed to get better the more he drank. The elixir of grapes and alcohol. He wasn’t planning to get completely drunk though as he wanted to remember this final night. There was dancing also. Many Lords and ladies dancing together in unison. Robb had danced with her earlier so he was fine for the time being and he perhaps would have done it again if Talisa was to return any time this night.

Robb seemed bored without his wife by his side. Theon could tell that Rob was being bored by this so he decided that some light hearted humour might be the way to go

“Robb it’s your uncle's wedding you could at least try and look happy.” 

“I'll be happy when my wife returns it's been over an hour.” There was worry and Robb's voice was trying his best not to give it away but it was overly clear what was happening. Talisa said she was going to return a message.

“Who knows perhaps she got caught up talking to a girl, I bet she loves telling everyone about your child. Or Greywind.” all good lies.

Robb was actually really helped by the reassurance. As a King naturally he has a tendency to worry about things especially when it was concerning his wife the Queen.

“She does. My son gives her no rest but it will be worth it in the end.” Their son, though unplanned, was the best thing to ever happen to Robb. it gave him a reason to keep fighting.

Robb wasn't interested in the Iron Throne at all. In fact all he really wanted was independence from the Lannister’s and the rightful justice for his father's unlawful beheading but he knew the moment he marched on Kings Landing he would be forced to take it whether he wanted it or not. Besides it was the only way he could make one of his brothers the King in the North. For the North to be truly free had he to give up his home in favour of a new one.

He could laugh to himself that he finally understood Theon’s Iron born saying. He was going to be paying the iron price for the kingdoms. A price so his flesh and blood could grow up happily. A place for him and Talisa to have more little princes and princess.

 

He would spend hours with Talisa in the tent just simply talking about all the things that they would teach their child and what their child would do for the seven kingdoms. How they would teach them how to sword fight or how to govern over a mass of people. No matter their gender they would make a good Prince or Princess.

 

It was true the baby had been restless for the last couple of days he seemed eager to get out but he wasn't ready just yet. Robb was bursting with anticipation and he couldn't wait for the next couple of months. The child was giving him even more motivation not to lose the bloody war with the Lannister’s. His child was going to be the first king of the Seven Kingdoms that was of Stark descent. 

Robb knew he would be able to bring peace to the whole of King landing as he doubted the Lannister’s were very capable of running it and they would welcome a change in ruler. It will be ruled by a usurper. As it had been done with Robert.

It wouldn't be ruled by an incestuous love child it would be ruled by him and his wife and then truly everyone could be happy. Things were looking up for him and the North.

The thing was but he knew this was to come true. He wouldn't ruin Robb's night by telling him he was being foolish instead he just went along with the charade and enjoy it as long as we both remain breathing. If one thing irked Theon it would be in this timeline that little shit of a prince would be outliving him and he would gloat about he was responsible for killing them.

It was Roose who had done this along with Tywin Lannister and the rest of his army.

Theon took a small pouch from of his leather belt and gave it a small shake. A liquid was inside of it. The moment Theon removed the cap Robb knew the familiar smell. Pure northern wine made from the thorns of winter roses. Theon passed Robb a swig of wine to help calm his nerves about his bride. Anyone who had travelled beyond the Neck could tell it was cheap from the south end which is why the northerners didn't pick up on it. The only reason Theon knew. The taste was because they didn’t want to waste good wine on people who weren’t going to live to feel the hangover the next morning.

Also during his time in King’s Landing they had drank it after the whole dragon pit talks. It helped to steady everyone’s nerves.

“May I ask something of you?”

“What is it?”

“How do you feel about…me. Are you happy?” Theon acted like he was inebriated a little bit to make it seem like he was just talking shit while on the red liquid.

He was being brave and asking this as he had less than a couple hours of life left and he wanted to spend it knowing Robb’s true opinion of things. Did he die happy?. 

 

“I was wondering what if you-never mind.” Theon made a split second decision to change his mind. He’d rather die not knowing. If he asked now he could ruin his last moments with Robb and that was the last thing on earth that he wanted. He would save it for the last moment he remembered.

“What I'm trying to say is be happy. Edmure certainly is.” Theon said as he gestured a hand over to Roslin and her new husband who were eating grapes without a care in the world. laughing and smiling.

Robb had gotten used to this routine. Theon would try to come out of his shell but then he would make any excuse to escape. It was getting less and less frequent as time went on but Robb would still notice this from time to time.

They looked over and could see his newlywed wife now giving him wine as though he were the king of the Seven Kingdoms. Now that was something he to pay to see, his uncle in charge of everything when he can't even write a funeral pyre properly.

“What are you going to name your son?” Theon thought it would be a good thing to distract from.

Theon hadn’t given much thought to Robb’s baby boy. Jeyne had mentioned it would end up dying anyway to he saw little to no point in thinking about it but seeing how happy and how much anxiety it gave Robb it certainly made him want to care now.

He could just imagine Robb’s little boy now. Growing up to have his father's hair but his mother's personality. Becoming a prince and being fair in his reign. Perhaps he could even get a dire wolf pup of his own to ride into battle. Then again he would hope that by the time the next generation were born all wars would have ceased.

“I haven't thought about it I don't even know if it's going to be a boy or a girl. All we know is its growing strong and healthy. I’m really hoping for a boy. I don’t mind either but I want my first to be a boy.” Robb always wanted a little boy but if it did turn out to be a princess she would be the most respected princess in all the land.

“If it is like a boy you hoped I have an idea what you should name him.” Theon said. 

“Don't you think that something I and the wife should decide?” Robb knew that Theon meant well but this certainly was a personal thing.

“Eddard.” 

Theon said. He had been thinking about it and it seemed the only fitting name for a future king to have.

Robb Stark looked to his companion with almost misty eyes. Theon had done a lot of things but it almost made him cry but this was something which he’d come the closest. Such a thoughtful thing to say. Ned wasn’t his real father but Theon had really taken him on which made Robb smile beam.

“Can I ask you something now in return?” Robb

Theon’s fingers clicked against the table and it probably would have been heard had it not been for his gloves. Theon took a drink. He was sure that he was going to be needing it for whatever Robb was about to ask.

“What happened? The men who tortured you. What did they do exactly? Don't misunderstand me. I am glad every day for what you did but I can't understand what happened that day. Your body is evidence but I cannot see your mind.” Robb had tried to think many times of why Theon would chose the Starks over him.

Theon’s mind went silent. Normally he would be able to think of a response but he couldn’t keep using false excuses as they didn’t seem to satisfy Robb’s curiosity. Only an honest answer would do and that’s exactly what he was going to tell him.

 

Theon placed his cup down on the table.

A deep breath to put him at ease and off he went.

“I made a choice. I have no regrets. What's done is done. I'm happy. I just wish could have a family of my own. I don't mean a family with Walda. I thought maybe the Starks...I just needed somewhere to belong. I know you think it was okay for me but growing up in Winterfell was bad for me. I never knew what I was meant to be. Now I do. A kraken raised by wolves.”

Robb was left stunned at his small speech. He had no idea that this was the internal struggle of him all this time without ever telling him. He was so captivated he didn’t even notice he avoided the question all together.

“If I told you then people would have assumed I was thinking of running away. You know how it is. Hostages aren’t trusted anywhere.”

Gently, the wolf king put a hand on Theon’s shoulder and patted him in a reassuring manner. Relief washed over him knowing finally what was going on inside that brain of his. It was better late than never he supposed. The two boys shared a look and Theon could feel his heart beginning to beat fast, not with panic but with passion. Robb’s face did that all the time of course but the setting and the mood was pushing it to the maximum limit.

Robb leaned out much to Theon’s dismay. A small gasp escaped but only Theon heard. Robb had very little impulse control apparently and he kept trying to control his feelings in public. The Stark seemingly had enough of the emotions for one day and decided to bring the conversation back to a more playful and jovial manner.

“Why did you choose her? She’s got a pretty face but I didn’t think she’d be your type?”

His hands suggested that he just shrug it off and not make it seem like a big deal. Which it wasn't. Though he and Walda never really spoke previously she always seemed like such a small thing. He pitied her. She was married to Roose, who unlike Ramsay, was a man with honour. He forbade any of his men from even making any comments about her to her face and certainly no one was allowed to touch her. 

Almost all the things that Ramsay allowed to happen to him.

Theon had been at the Iron islands at the time but he had heard tales of Roose being stabbed by his own bastard and his first trueborn son being fed to the savage dogs. A fate which Theon only wished onto two people. His master and his uncle.

“I know what it's like to be outcasted I figured I'd be able to save her from it. People laugh at us but if we are together we can laugh at them.” It was the only way he could describe it.

“You're a good man Greyjoy.” Robb took a good long look at him and how far he had seemingly come since Winterfell. His maturity rivalled that of even his mother and while there were some aspects of Theon that he had missed he was glad to see the new him beginning to adapt and forget the trauma his father had put him through.

He had already began to think about how to attack the Iron Born when he was done with the Lannister’s. He would bring down the king first but keep him alive. He wanted to make an example of those who try to hurt the Stark Family.

“And you're going to be an even better father.”

They looked around the hall. they looked over to Catelyn. she was sitting over by Roose Bolton. the unholy even noticed the splinters in the table he was so focused. Robb saw what Theon was glaring at.

“Excuse me I think your mother needs saving. Don’t want her conversing with Roose.”

“Be careful not to let him stab you.” Theon said as a dark joke

“I'll take my chances.” His reply was colder than Robb had been anticipating. Roose was something that Theon seemed to be very touchy on. Robb couldn’t understand why but he assumed it had something to do with the miller incident as he had decided to dub it.

As he got up to talk with them Catelyn made her departure and was walking towards Robb, but then something seemed to catch both of their attentions.

It was with the slamming of the wooden doors that Theon realised what was to come next. Catelyn had taken a note of it and will she found it weird she didn't dismiss it instantly instead she chose to wait and see what would happen next. No more than a couple of seconds later the musicians picked up their instruments and began to play and all too familiar tune.

The music began to play in the hall, none of the Northern men seemed to pick up on it. Theon recognised it only milliseconds before Catelyn had. His heart broke in two whenever she saw her head slowly turning towards the musicians that were playing. They seemed to be playing with some smirks on their faces, anticipation of what was going to happen here within the next couple of minutes.

For the first time Theon finally was able to related to someone in this life. It was someone who knew the future just like he did.

She had that worried look in her eye, when she was worried about the safety of her children.

Catelyn was looking around for any more clues about what was going on but Theon had a gut instinct that this was going to be it. The time had come for them to face their future.

She sat back down besides Roose.

She's slowly rolled back his sleeve trivial he was wearing protective armour underneath it all. It truly hit her now they were about to be betrayed. This was a trap they had been lead into

“Robb Stark. King in the North.”

From behind him Theon heard someone unsheathing his blade and before Theon he could even turn around it was already in his stomach.

Theon was stabbed in the stomach multiple times and by the gods had it hurt. Robb watched as this was happening right before his eyes and he was so terrified about that was happening. The pain was nothing like Ramsay had done before. Swords and knives sure but Ramsay had wanted to keep living and breathing so he wouldn’t dare jam it in any further than a few inches. This blade was truly imbedded into his stomach and he could truly taste the blood coming up already.

He could feel the blood beginning to pool around his skin and clothes. The fur becoming wet and matted. 

 

This was the position Talisa had been in, only hurting would have been increased because they wanted to kill two people with the stabbing but he was only going to get on one. Theon was praying to all seven gods that Jeyne had been able to make good time it was now it's far away from the Massacre as she could possibly go. If he thought about it they would probably be arriving about the greywater watch point by now. There is no way they could catch up with her now. It’s going to miss Jeyne most of all that he could live with that. Well technically he wouldn't have to live with it for much longer

The first of the guards shot the arrow at Robb and it went right into his shoulder blade, causing him to cry out in pain. Catelyn tried to stand up but she was stuck down next.

The slaughter began and though his worst memories would always belong to the Bolton this was a very close second. Men everywhere were dying with only shock upon their faces.

Panic. That was all he knew. People being stabbed all around. It was Euro’s attack all over again. He abandoned Yara by mistake. His mind was telling him to try and do the same but unlike his past life he did not have a body of water to fall into. This time there was nowhere to run.

Robb was stood in shock as more arrows came forwards to him.

 

Robb was shot with multiple arrows and yet he refused to die. Theon had planned for many things but reacting to him being murdered before his eyes and not being able to do anything about it was probably the most gut wrenching thing he ever had to do. His heart was pounding right out of his chest as he saw the splintering wood coming right out of his spine and abdomen.

The Frey looked down upon the Greyjoy and then towards Roose who had just but his blade up through the Jaw of what looked to be a young Umber soldier.

We are slowly crawling towards the main stage so he could be with Rob one final time, get his fingers lost in his dark ginger hair and see eyes one more time before they would be closed forever.

“Greyjoy, you don’t have to die here. We will allow you passage back to the iron islands as long as you take your sisters scum soldiers with you. You will be treated for your wounds. They should be grateful we let you live.” Roose extended his offer. Though they had agreed to slaughter every single one of Robb’s companions however since the iron born were comparable to that of cockroaches it would be easier if they had their prince to get rid of them quicker. It would require less of their soldiers and less resources. Killing two birds with one stone as it were.

 

Catelyn was under the table and she tried to get Theon's attention. If he could see her then maybe he would know that he should take up the offer and tell the tale of what happened this night. At least one of them would be able to make it out alive.

“Tell the North to never forget this night,

Never forget the Red Wedding.”  
.  
She was whispering this as to not give away her position to the enemy. A normal girl would have stayed down and beg for Mercy but Catelyn Stark not just any woman she was a mother and the mother to the king in the North. She was a Tully raised in the River lands and she would not let the last of her family die without a fight. She had been transformed into a wolf and would fight tooth and nail to survive.

Though Theon was in pain it was only Roose Bolton’s blade that could finish him so he rose again and again. More arrows penetrating his body as he made his way towards a dying Robb.

Roose hated this boy with all of his guts. He was persistent in all the wrong ways.

Rob was still alive at this point he was standing personally over a half dead Theon.

 

“Robb...I love you. There were so many things I was focused on that I never considered what I really wanted.”

Robb was crying tears as he placed a hand on Theon’s wounds. chose not to focus on the arrows sticking out of his body but instead focused on face and studied every last Freckle he could see .

Robb's hair was matted with blood of his own and possibly some others.

He rose once more from the now bloodied floor. He coughed up some more blood and then laughed as he spat towards Roose’s boots. Robb tried to move but the arrows struck his bones so hard that they were broken in all the wrong places.

“You're going to die. Your bastard is going to die. Your house is going to die. As you feel your Bastard’s blade in your stomach I hope you remember this day as the day you made your biggest mistake. Fuck the Frey’s, Fuck the Lannister’s and fuck the Bolton’s!”

The music was still playing loudly but it seemed now the musicians were having their music accompany his speech, the more loudly the Greyjoy yelled harder and harder the drums got The Rains of Castamere still playing.

Roose wasted no time in finally putting an end to the Greyjoy talking. He took out the blade that Jeyne had described to him in almost perfect detail. It was a thicker blade at the bottom but that only made the top point all the more sharp.

Roose plunged the dagger right into his lung, just nicking the side of his heart. Roose purposefully did it where he knew Thorn’s life would linger for longer in agony. Instead of crying out like some mortally wounded beast Theon had a rather different response than what his murder had envisioned. A smirk. One that eerily reminded him of his own devil spawn.

Theon laughed as he coughed out the blood onto Roose Bolton’s face. Not many things scared the Lord of the Dreadfort but the Greyjoy’s laugh chilled him to the bone with how utterly victorious he sounded. Everyone had heard his bold claim and watched as he dropped to the floor and crawled his limp body towards where Robb was in the process of dying. His nails bled against the wooden floor and the rest of the men stopped their stabbing to witness his last moments.

 

Catelyn, who was still living at this point, looked on at the boy she had once called her son and wanted to tell him to run away. To take Roose up on his offer and flee so that one of them may live to fight another day but he had that fierce determination in his eyes to be loyal.

With a shaking hand he lightly touched Robb’s cheek and stroked it. So many times in his mind he had played out this scenario but now it was actually coming to life. A happy sort of sob come out as his world began to close down.

With his dying breath he kissed Robb on the lips before he finally let death take him for a second time. The heat of the kiss outweighing the coldness the both of them felt beginning to creep in. 

That had been their first and last kiss.

Theon tried to whisper he was sorry but his lips could only move so much before they went still. Theon was relieved. He had done the one thing he had wanted to do this whole time. He was in agony but he was finally at peace with it.

Well Theon’s eyes were closed he could still hear certain things happening. Robb standing up one last time as his mother took a knife to a girl's throat and threatened to cut her open if the men did not let them pass. Catelyn would have let the Lannister’s take her head it did it meant her baby boy would be safe. She would give her and her title and everything she owned even her own life if it resulted in her child safety. It was at this time she looked around the room and to her surprise she couldn't see a single bloody to pregnant woman. Her daughter-in-law managed to escape nightmare and perhaps it was enough for her to know that her baby grandchild would live on as a survivor at the Red Wedding.

In a sense Robb would live on

Robb whispered in a voice that wasn’t even his own “Mother…”

It was a lot more painful than it had been the first time but the reward had been worth every drop of blood that left his body.

His life began to fade. The last thing he heard was Catelyn’s stark's neck being slit right open after her howl of pain for her lost child.

Robb…

Catelyn...

Bliss.

With a start he woke up in the Gods halls once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter: Epilogue


	21. Westeros

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Epilogue from all corners of the world. From Kings Landing to Pyke, From The North to the afterlife.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, we are all finally here. I can't believe I'm finally finishing this fic. It actually kind of hard to let this one go because it been so much fun doing this one. I want to thank each and every one of you who made it this far and your support has been what got me to the end. This years gonna be a good one and I wish you all a great future. See you later :D

The blood had stopped following and a silence had fallen upon the halls of the Frey’s.

The red wedding was over. The last Starks in the north were dead and the war was officially declared as being over when Robb, Catelyn and Theon’s bodies had all been tossed carelessly into the water by the twins. Robb’s body without a head and his mother with a hole in her throat. Joffrey was reigning supreme over everyone in king’s landing. Only the members of the small council knew this yet. 

For the city of King's Landing it had been a normal day. Tyrion has gotten up as he normally did and had a good glass of wine with his breakfast, Sansa had gotten dressed in her prettiest gown along with the help of her handmaid from across the sea and the elder lion, Tywin, had woken up expecting good news. The day wouldn’t remain normal for much longer. 

The focus was on Tyrion. 

He was just on his way to the small council meeting. As soon as he walked in the door do you know immediately that something was amiss. Tyrion didn't understand it. Normally whenever there was to be a small council meeting there would be an aura of something heavy hanging in the air. This time however everyone seemed rather jovial. This couldn't have been good. Tyrion hadn’t heard the wicked news yet

Cersei was smiling. Cersei was happy at something. A loss must have befallen the Starks if she were to be this smug about something. The only other time that Cersei would smile was when Tyrion had been harmed in some way. And as far as he knew no one had hurt him yet. The important word being yet. The mood was joyful but Tyrion felt nothing of the kind. 

Tyrion took his seat and the meeting began. Maester Pycell had a scroll up his sleeve. 

His nephew had the cruellest delight in his eyes. Joffrey must have gotten some good news from the battlefield. Tyrion simply assumed that it was a war won on the battlefield but he never would have imagined what his victory was. 

Joffrey had begun to babel about Lord Walder. He wasn't paying much attention to anything. Perhaps Lord Walder had rejected Robb for betraying his trust so they couldn’t get across the north. 

It wasn’t until Joffrey said those 4 little words that Tyrion realized the scale of the victory.

“Robb stark is dead.”

 

The tides had begun to turn. He couldn't believe after all the years of war and hurt that it was over without any major noise or battle. He had gone to bed the night before thinking about Shae and how perfect she was without even thinking about the North. The lack of warning had been rather jarring. 

“And his bitch mother” Joffrey continued without another moment's notice. He didn’t allow Tyrion time to breath in the news. 

Joffrey was practically cumming in his britches as he said those words. Joffrey had won his first ever war and he had felt proud of himself. He was so excited to be known as winning the war against the North. He’d get a nickname form it for sure. Joffrey the Brave or Joffrey the Valiant. He’d get all the praise for winning this war and no doubt he’d get a good reward for it. Someone other than Sansa. He’d grown bored of pretending to be in love with her. No he was free to torment and mock all he liked. 

The whole room fell silent anticipating his reaction. Tyrion was shocked by his face only showed a portion of it. He knew what this had meant. The whole war with the north was over. He couldn’t believe it. He wanted to ask how they had done it but he already had a gut feeling that Tywin was the one who had been behind it. Something he had planned with the Northern Lords who hated Robb. 

“So the young wolf was dead at dinner along with his mother.” Tyrion mused. Robb was only a young boy trying to avenge the death of his father. He couldn’t relate to him. This reminded him of something from a while back. A conversation he had had about being murdered at a wedding. A conversation he’d had at Winterfell before he left. 

“What about the Greyjoy?” He asked without hesitation.

All eyes were on him. Even the little prick Joffrey had been curious as to why he was asking about Theon. Tywin was the one to answer him as he was the one to receive the Raven. 

“Theon Greyjoy….He died too. Why do you ask? He was just their ward. He took a knife to the gut. He was stabbed 12 times but it was Roose Bolton who finished him off. Nothing more than a persistent pest.” Tywin answered. He remembered getting a small kraken piece of a map marker from Walder in a small box. 

He had noticed how it was shattered into smaller pieces. While he saw the Iron Born as a small concern if his son had taken an interest then perhaps he should have as well. After all he knew that his son wasn’t stupid. If Tyrion had picked up something then perhaps there was more to it. No matter the only two who remained were Yara and Balon. One old and feeble the other a women. Tywin didn’t even need to waste his time even thinking about them. 

He wouldn’t be surprised if the news about Theon killed the old man. After all he had already lost two others and his wife included. She may not have been killed but she was dead. He had nothing left to live for so he wouldn’t be surprised if Balon were to take a visit to the great drowned god. Perhaps jumping off that rope bridge they were oh so fond off. 

Tyrion on the other hand was thinking about something else. 

This news was rather shocking to him. The last time he had seen the Greyjoy was when he had been at Winterfell. Tywin had mentioned Roose Bolton being there as well. That was one of the things they had conversed about how he would rather take a knife of a heart then betray the Starks. It struck him as odd how oddly specific had been the first time around but now Tyrion seemed to get an idea of what he had meant. 

Theon knew his fate. 

That meant that Theon knew. He knew about everything that was to come and yet he remained silent. Tyrion dropped the scroll and passed it back to the elderly man. 

Tywin looked towards his son. He had heard troubling reports from Roose that Theon was being a pain in the back to deal with. A rather unusual pain but nevertheless it was done and he had a knife put into his stomach. They would be able to move on for now. 

So the meeting continued as normal with Joffrey and his grandfather being at each other's throats and him being sent off to bed but Tyrion felt he couldn’t enjoy it as much as he could given how much was on his mind at the moment. 

Thus the meeting was adjourned and everyone went about their business. Cersei plotting against Margaery, Joffrey getting into Margaery's panties and Tyrion himself planning to get Casterly Rock seeing as he was now the rightful heir to it.

The conversation with his father had went about as well as expected and had gained quite the headache from it so he needed something strong to clear his head. The smell of flowers would perhaps be enough. A walk in the garden allowed him to be alone with his thoughts.

His favourite plants was by far the bee balm plants. Maybe it was just his ego but it reminded him somewhat himself. He was unusual to look at but he served other purposes and had more to him than meets the eye.

He was smelling the warm spicy aroma of it whenever he felt at all figure come up behind him

Of course. He should have known that if you visit the Garden you must always expect a spider to be lurking there. Varys just happened to join him in taking in the wonderful garden scene. Olenna was probably about a minutes’ walk away knowing the queen of thorns. Tyrion knew what the impending conversation with her would be like so he would prefer it to just be him and the spider. 

The two made sure they were in an isolated area before they began to talk. They didn’t know what spies were lurking about. Whether be from Tywin himself or they be from the man known as Little finger. 

“I assume you were asking about the Greyjoy boy for a reason?” Varys asked quizzing Tyrion. A normal activity for them both it seemed. Varys stopped to smell one of the flowers. A yellow and black sunflower that was growing in a small patch.

“He knew how he was going to die. He knew the plot years before it was ever conceived.” Tyrion was speaking with his hands when talking about this. 

Varys nodded. It was what his birds had told him as well. That he knew too much. Varys had even pondered to little finger about it. Little finger knew less as he always did but he offered his opinion on it. He saw it that the boy had gotten involved in something he shouldn't have. Something related to magic and that’s when he asked his birds to stop listening in on the boy. Varys wanted nothing to do with magic unless it was the man who cut him.

Varys could see the change in the boy happen but it was just pinning down exactly what had happen to him which was the troubling part. 

“Tell me Varys. Why would a man who knows this not say anything? If it were me I would have talked father out of it.” No matter how many ways his mind tried to think about it he couldn’t see a single logical reason that he would want to conceal such ground-breaking information. What was the point in watching his friend die? What was the point of even living knowing that he was to die? If the rumours were true he would have especially wanted to have saved Robb considering how they made their feelings public.

Varys looked in the distance. 

“I think he had his reasons. None of my birds could tell me what happened to him. It seems other forces must have been at work here.” Varys wouldn’t want to consider it but they must have come for the Greyjoy as they did to him all those years ago. 

Varys knew that Theon had lied about the torture he’d gone through. No men of Greyjoy or Stark had laid a single finger on him. A man couldn’t do this to himself so that left one last explanation. 

Tyrion knew exactly what he meant by other forces. The arcane, the mystical and the magical. All the things he didn’t believe in. 

Tyrion was amused. 

“It must be quite an accomplishment if you have no clues.” Tyrion knew that Varys knew everything about everyone. Hells he even knew things that they didn’t know about themselves. Theon must have been a complete enigma. 

“I have my theories as you do my lord.” Varys did have a couple of ideas but magic had to be the main explanation. There was no other way around it. Perhaps a curse had been placed upon Theon yet he was bound to not say anything. Or perhaps he had made a deal with the fire priestess and this had been the price he had to pay

“Perhaps we should have captured him instead of the Stark girl. It perhaps would have been nice to know my beautiful face was going to be ruined in the Blackwater.” He gestured towards his facial scar. It could have been a lot worse. He could have lost the entire nose or worse. 

Varys smirked. When the spiders smirked it meant he was thinking about something.

“What is it?” He asked.

“Your face was ruined before it got the slash.” Varys told him. Another laugh came out.

Tyrion was surprised that such a shady line had ever left Varys’ mouth. He was normally so reserved when it came to things like this so to see him actively humouring him was something to smile at. 

“You must be feeling brave today Lord Varys. Then again a man who has no cock has nothing left to lose.”

“As did the Greyjoy. “His reply was quick but unlike the previous one became a little more morbid. The laughing died down. The conversation came back to him. The Greyjoy was always centred on everything. All things led back to him.

Tyrion mused about his relationship with the Spider. The two enjoyed their witty back and forth banter. Tyrion felt he was the only person he could have an honest conversation with without feeling like he was going to be stabbed as soon as he turned his back. Varys was perhaps the only honest man who could survive in this hell of city. His only match being that of Little finger. 

Tyrion was the only one he allowed to get away with such dwarf jokes as Varys himself respected him. He knew that the dwarf jokes were just jokes and no offence was meant. 

“I’d love to hear more of your remarks about me being a dwarf or cockless men but for now I have a wedding to attend.” He clapped his hands together and made his way to leave. 

“Ahhh yes. Soon to be Queen Margaery.” Varys spoke while looking over to the two Tyrell’s who were talking in the shade of the floral setting. Olenna was looking at Jewellery while Margaery was trying to talk to her about something important. Her face showed concern but she was clearly focused on something else. Olenna never did cease to put a smile on his face. 

Both of them knew what Margaery was. She was a woman who knew how to manipulate the men who were around her which made her the second most dangerous woman in king's landing just second to that of Cersei Lannister. Then again Cersei was the Queen Regent. Margaery was soon to be queen. All she was now was the Lady of Highgarden. Cersei had that dangerous lioness soul within her. Margaery was weaker in that regard. 

It would be her downfall in the end. Cersei was willing to kill. She was not. 

Tyrion couldn’t focus on this wedding as he already had another one on his mind. 

“I'm as happy as you are about this my friend.”

“Are we friends?” Varys asked. He raised his eyebrow. Their friendship was curious to him. Tyrion seemed to be the only Lannister who could put the seven kingdoms equal with his family bond family, a trait he’d hope be more common. 

“You tell me.” Tyrion just absolutely adored having the final word in things. 

Sadly later on he wouldn’t be getting any words at all. 

-

The mood on the Iron islands was dark. There were storms brewing in the sky and the waves were crashing against the rocks below them. The crashing was heard everywhere. The people knew why but no one was going to speak of why. Their ex prince was dead, the last living son of Balon had been slaughtered while defending the people who had killed Balon’s other sons. 

Yara was sitting on her father's throne. Balon was standing by the fireplace and looking into the flames as though it would give him answers as to why such a horrible thing would happen to their family. She was sitting with her head between her knees as her eyes were cast to the floor. Her face was dry and paled. 

Balon hadn't let go of the note since he had first read it over three hours ago. He’d been pacing and shaking his head in disbelief. Emotions in his brain were flying about, crashing into each other with the rage of a whirlpool. His face was even more sour than usual. Yara would only look up when Balon threw something in the room. 

“I disowned him. He shouldn’t matter now.” He said angrily. He threw his hands down by his side in frustration. He didn’t understand why he was being so emotional about this. His son had betrayed their family. He’d chosen that horrid Stark boy. And even kissed him before his death to add more insult to injury. 

“You can cry father. I won’t tell.” She was snide while saying this. Yara could see this was Balon’s fault. She just needed to place the blame on someone. It came out snarkier than she had wanted. He was realistically grieving in his own way but she needed to grieve too. He hadn’t just lost a son. She’d lost her only sane family. 

Theon knew the risk. Robb was a whirlpool and he’d dragged Theon into its murky depths. Her brother’s story was a tragic one. Tortured by Robb’s men only to die still defending him. 

“I’m not upset over this little discretion. He was someone who rejected the throne. He was a traitor...He was...he was…”He lost all words. He couldn't think of what else to say.

Balon put a hand over his mouth and wiped down. He was a king and kings didn’t mourn for their fallen enemies. More specifically traitors. 

It was obvious both of them had different feelings about this. Yara knew Balon was to blame but none more so than Walder Frey. It was his doing. He had put the blade into his heart. His heart and chest were stabbed 28 times just so Roose could make him suffer. Along with Roose Bolton. She would find Roose and kill him if it was the last thing she did. Upon her salted heart she would sail halfway around the world to the Dreadfort to simply see Roose Bolton ended. One of her men was captured and was apparently being tortured in the Dreadfort. She could kill two birds with one stone. 

Her father was in no state to be doing any of his lordly duties. He could act tough all he wanted at the end of the day he had been a part of their family and for that they must mourn. Even if he did choose another family they couldn’t choose their blood. 

“Father...Go...I’ll oversee matters for the day. Or the next three days if you need it.” Yara told him. She was looking out over the water, rain pouring down on such a miserable day. The gods were mad at their loss as she was

Balon sighed and knew his daughter was correct. He needed the rest. He had just lost his last living son and he only had one daughter remaining. It was a lot to take in. His mind turned to Alyanas. His wife would be devastated to the point of breaking if she knew their last son was dead. 

“It’s not your fault.” He told her. Balon was never a good father to any of his children but he did try on the occasional moments. This seemed like a moment his daughter needed strength. 

“Isn’t it?” She thought. 

She responded. They waited for the other to speak again but neither of them did. 

She should have been able to try harder. She should have used force to get him back to the iron Islands. She could command men during the fiercest of storms and yet this had proved to be the true challenge. She should have knocked him out and tied him to the ship if it meant he’d come back with her. Alas she hadn’t tried hard enough. If only she’d been able to do anything other than what she did. And now she’d have to live with this guilt forever. 

He walked off and for the first time she felt truly alone. At least one day she thought that perhaps they could have gone on a walk along the sea side. Just her, her mother and Theon. Perhaps Balon if he wasn’t in a mood. Alas her dreams were smashed into oblivion. 

She tried to cry. Balon’s point may have been valid but it didn’t mean he was right. She was taught to be hard by the Iron Islands lifestyle but it didn’t stop heart dropping.

Her hair swept down the side of her face as she screamed out in anger. It was an iron born scream that all of the islands should have heard. Her body was drained but her mind was no. She saw her house sigil on the wall on a cloth banner. In her rage she ripped it off its metal hinges and threw it to the ground. Her family didn’t matter anymore. Her family name had killed her brothers. And her mother. 

A knock on the door broke her out of her rage. Her father was out of the picture so she had to be strong. A moment of weakness meant the rest of the day could be productive. A small, shaking messenger boy came into the room. He was a skinny thing. Not much meat on his bones. He must have been fast for no boy so skinny would be allowed on the island without ridicule. 

“What is it? Make it quick.” She wasn't in the mood for distractions of any kind. 

“There's someone here to see you lady Yara.” The small high pitched boy told her. She wanted nothing to do with whatever it was but business was business and the whole island couldn’t stop simply because one person had died. 

“Who? I'm not expecting anyone.” Her day plans didn’t start until a lot later on. She picked up the cloth and placed it onto the war table. If there was a visitor the place couldn’t be messy. Not that she cared particularly in this moment. 

The boy gulped and replied. 

“It’s a Frey.” 

Yara could feel the shock setting in. Yara was up out of her Father's chair and was staring at the boy with a burning intensity. The name was burning in her very soul. The Frey’s had been the ones who killed her only living brother. They caused her feeling of deep, deep anguish. 

“Frey? As in Walder Frey? The man who murdered my baby brother.” Yara’s hand shot to her torso as she was ready to pull out her kraken knife and stab the person the moment they set foot in the room. The boy’s eyes gleamed with the reflection of it.

“She says Theon saved her.” He told her the fear making his voice even higher. Poor thing was shaking in his trousers. 

This caught Yara off guard. Her rage interrupted. 

‘A woman?’ Yara put her hand back but still kept her fingertips on it just in case. Women could be deadlier than men depending on the situation. Yara knew the rule of never underestimating anyone. Theon saved a Frey girl? Had it been before or after the red wedding?

“Of course he did. Send her in.” Yara said to the boy. She still kept her grip sharp on the knife handle and waited to see who it was. She got tense as she heard the door creaking open. 

All her expectations were dropped as a hefty short woman walked in. She looked like she was no older than twenty. He face didn’t seem to age at all. She was breathless and quite red. Clearly the travelling was taking a toll on her body. Yara felt deep in her gut that somehow some way she wasn’t here for violence. If she was here for a fight she wasn’t prepared for it. Her green dress and grey shawl didn’t made for good defensive clothing. 

“You're Ladyship. My name is Walda. Walda Frey.” She spoke as faintly as a mousse squeak. 

“Why are you here?” Yara asked sharply. 

Walda was terrified out of her mind. It was only when she arrived on the damp harbour that she heard about the fate that befell her betrothed. She was a northerner in Iron born waters and right now everyone looked like they wanted to kill her. Eyes were always on her. The Iron Born didn’t know who she was but those who did looked on with dismay. 

“Your brother saved me. He wanted me to go to Volantis and I will but he gave this to me before he passed on. I thought it right you should have it.”

Yara took the bag and shook it first. She wanted to make sure it wasn’t a trap at first. It was something metal inside. It was something small and metal. She hadn’t the foggiest idea what it could have been. Lady Walda looked soft. Yara knew it was more than likely a parting gift from Theon. 

She pulled the strings of the bag and poked around at the contents. It was an instrument. No. 

‘Theon don’t you fucking dare have given me what I think this is.’ She thought as she saw the golden gleam of the gift. 

It was a horn. 

The horn specifically used to keep her awake the nights that she had taken Winterfell. The instrument of psychological torture. 

Yara gave her lips a lick and gave it a small blow. It made the exact same noise that it did when she had taken Winterfell and then was kept up all night by the sound of a horn. Her heart swelled up a little bit. 

“Theon you bloody bastard.” She finally let a small tear slip down her face. She hadn’t accepted that her brother had died in such a distasteful way but this gift showed her he had made his peace with her before dying. She didn’t have the guilt of knowing if he hated her or not. She held the horn in her hand and gripped it tight. 

Walda looked to see Yara crying with happiness. Or maybe it was sadness. She didn’t think that such a little trinket could cause such an emotion.

She unravelled the paper a little bit more and saw that Theon had drawn what seemed to be a small sun. With a spear in it. The Dornish Symbol. Theon had implied this to be the Dornish Affair that she would have with Ellaria Sand. She didn’t get it of course but she would soon. Yara thought that perhaps it meant the sun would shine again on the dark islands of Pyke. 

Walda felt like she should leave. 

“Would you like to stay? You’ve had a long journey.” Yara asked the frightened girl. She was a young thing she could tell and she was pale. It would be rude to turn her away considering Theon had gone to such an effort to save her. If Theon had saved her there must have been a good reason. 

“If you wouldn’t mind your Ladyship. I’ve never been to the iron islands before. I don’t want to go back home. My father wants to marry me to Roose Bolton but now I’ve seen what he did I’m terrified.” Walda wanted no part of the Bolton name. 

That cemented this for Yara. The Iron Born were cruel but only to their enemies. Yara would take pity on this poor girl for Theon’s sake. 

“How about we get you a drink.” Yara placed a hand on Walda’s shoulder.

“That would be lovely.” Walda sighed. 

-

“He saw me you know.” Arya said.

The Hound looked to her. “Who?”

 

“Theon. He looked at me and didn’t say anything.” Arya said trying to figure out why that had happened. He did see her and she saw him but within a seconds notice he turned around and briskly walked back into the hall while the big doors closed behind him a short while after. She wanted to run after him but then she noticed that something was off about everyone and took a couple of moment to scope the scene out. That’s when the men turned on each other. Men brutally stabbing each other as the blood spread over their plates of food. 

“You look like a boy. That and it’s been how many years since you’ve seen him? 3 or 4. You’ve had your growth.” He told her. She had been only a small thing when he’d first seen her at Winterfell during his first visit. She was the size of her younger brother Bran. Now she was more lady like. Maybe a feral lady but a lady none the less. 

Arya looked out on the water. That could have been her fate as well had Theon seen her and taken her into the hall. Theon saved her by not noticing her. 

Arya shivered and came closer to the fire. 

Sandor looked over to the child. She was clearly upset over everything that happened but he hadn’t practiced using his empathy in many years. The last time he did was probably when he offered to take her sister back to their home. 

“Want a drink?” Sandor took the pouch off his belt and motioned it towards her. She was too young but after today's events he felt she was ready to drown her sorrows in the sweetened liquid. Never to young for some alcohol. He developed a taste for it after his father gave it to him to stop the pain of the facial burn. 

“No. I don’t want a drink from you.” Arya declined. 

“I’m trying to be kind girl. It will help warm you up.” Sandor said again passive aggressively seeing as his first try at kindness had been so coldly rejected. She could hear it sloshing about in his wine bag. She looked down at it but chose not to drink. She wasn’t thirsty. Or hungry. She was tired. 

She had spent all her time trying to get back to her family only to end up back where she started. 

“They weren't your only family. You have others.”

Arya wanted to say he was right but the only one she knew of was Jon and he was already way up at the wall. She wished they could go there next but whenever she asked the burly man about he always remained silent about it. As if he was trying to plan a better and closer location the Castle Black.

She stoked the fire and added another log to keep it burning. This one last log should have done them until they fell asleep. Her family was in her mind. Each day that passed she found it harder to remember their faces. Robb. Did he have freckles? Of course he did. Her mother, did she have blue eyes or brown? Arya felt such immense guilt that it burned her chest even thinking about it. 

“Even seeing Theon made me want to run so badly.” She remembered Theon’s cockiness form when she was a young girl. It was cruel that she didn’t even get to see them before they died. She wanted to see Robb but not the gruesome way that she had. His body with Grey wind’s lobed off head. She could still see the mobs grinning yellow teeth as they carried off her brother’s body to gods knows where. She wanted to run up and slaughter them all. With the hound by her side she would be able to take them all on. 

“Didn’t his sister burn your home down to the ground? Seems like a cunt if you ask me.”

“Just because his sister did that doesn’t mean he’s bad. That would be like me saying you’re a cunt because your brother is a cu…” She stopped mid-sentence when Sandor gave her the look. Arya tried to think of a better example. She couldn’t. All brother sister relationships seemed to be fucked in this world. Cersei and Jaime, Daenerys and Viserys and of course Jon with everyone except her. 

They sat and looked into the flames. The events of the red wedding still fresh in their minds. They both sat in front of the fire in silence, the flames flickering as the red sky turned to darkness. 

 

\-----------

Castle black was going about its usual business. All the men knew what had happened at the red wedding. How the King in the North had fallen to Roose Bolton’s knife. A story that was told around the camp fire. 

Jon had just gone for his trail about the truth behind his abandonment of the Night’s Watch. He was tired and wanted nothing more than his Dire Wolf and a nice cup of ale to sooth himself. It seemed that today was not likely to be that day. 

“Jon!” A sudden voice cried out to Jon Snow’s room in the castle. Jon looked to his long-time friend Ed. He had been running it seemed. His breathing was more a panting and his face was red with warmth. Not event eh cold of the wall could have cooled him down. 

“What is it Ed?” Jon asked getting him a cup of water to drink from. He poured the cup as he collected his breath again. 

“A woman came to the wall on horseback. She claims to be Robb’s wife.” Ed didn’t know what to make of the situation and only Jon seemed like he could handle it better then him. He downed the drink in one as he let Jon process the information. 

A survivor of the red wedding perhaps. They couldn’t be too careful. It would be foolish to just blindly believe whatever words came out of her mouth. Jon learned the hard way that women could be crafty. He was still torn up about Ygritte and he didn’t want to think about women let alone talk to one. 

“Let her in. If she is real I will find out.”

He walked down to the gate and a woman came in with a horse in hand and what seemed to be a babe in the belly. She was pregnant. Very far along it seemed. About five or six months. She fit the profile of Robb’s wife alright but he had to be sure it wasn’t some wildling spy sent by Mance. 

She looked shattered. 

The men all gathered round as Talisa walked slowly with the horse. She didn’t like the situation she was in any more then they did. The glare in her eyes made men stay out of her way. 

“Who are you?” Jon was careful to ask. Jon came closer. He was approaching her like a man would approach a wounded animal and Talisa didn’t appreciate this. Though in this moment she could have bitten his hand like a viper. 

“I am Talisa Stark. Queen of the North. I demand to know why I was sent here.” She was pregnant, tired and hungry. She was a queen and not in a mood to be talked down by the men of the nights watch. She had seen her husband Robb do it a million times and now she was doing it for the first time. 

Jon was only half way sure that it was her. In Robb’s letters he had described her vividly. A flower that had bloomed in Volantis but had the grace of a Northern Lady. Her beauty only matched by her knowledge. Still this could just be some random girl looking for shelter. He had to be sure by asking a question only Robb’s wife would know. 

“Where’s Robb scar?”

She thought for a moment. Her husband had so many scars. 

“In his mouth. He was dared by Theon in his youth to eat wood of a weir wood tree and his mouth has a scar from where it dug into his flesh. It’s like the scratch of a cat. He gave Theon an arrow wound after he failed at archery. They were practising by the river trying to shoot fish and Theon got hit in the foot.” She said hoping that extra grain of information would cement her place in Jon’s eyes. 

She woke up on the horse, her hands bound by leather to the reigns and she was in a could unfamiliar place. The horse seemed to have a mind of its own and wouldn’t budge no matter how much she tried to get it to move a different direction. Her struggles got fewer and fewer when she realised that in the distance, just beyond the snow covered horizon she was finally able to see the Wall. The place Robb promised to take her. 

“Welcome to the Wall. I’m Jon, Robb’s half-brother.” Jon said, his tone monotonous. It was good to finally meet her despite the circumstances. He extended a hand to her. She took it and gave it a quick shake. He didn’t look like he should be related to Robb but he was exactly the way Robb said he did so she trusted him to be true. 

“What happened? Why am I here?” It was clear that she had been sent here for a reason.

The men of the night's watch all went quiet at her question. It wasn’t possible that she couldn’t know. Jon tried to get the words to leave but it was mumbled out. She tried to hear him but it was far too quiet. 

“You don’t know what happened at the Frey’s?” Jon asked. The rest of the watchers on the wall looked at each other awkwardly, not really knowing what they should tell her. Obviously it should be the truth but they weren’t sure how they would break the news. 

Talisa was shaken. Something had happened at the Frey’s and she hadn’t been there by her husband’s side. Something happened and if she was sent away on purpose it wasn’t good. She would not falter. She held her head high and asked again. The more silence she heard the more she wanted to scream. 

“How did you escape?” Ed asked her. 

The word escape confirmed that it was bad news. Her hands tightened into fists and she lifted her chin up high. She wouldn't allow the men to sugar coat whatever had happened as they did with the other ladies she had seen in Westeros. The needed the hard truth. 

 

“I don’t remember. I was told by Theon to go outside then all of a sudden I’m on horseback heading towards the Wall.” She said tapping her mind to get the memories going again. It was all so recent that it was almost too fuzzy to recall. Certain aspects were blurred to her. There was a girl. Perhaps?

The name Theon and Jon’s head sprung up. Theon was at the centre of all of this. He had apparently come back to life after being murdered by his father. Or so he heard. Out of all the people to come back it had to be him. 

“You and Theon?” Jon probed. 

“II was going out for a walk. Eh-h-h the baby. He said to give a note to a girl who never showed up.” She only now realised that had Theon not told her to find the girl then she wouldn't’ have been out as long as she had been and she could have been in the hall with Robb when whatever did happen happened. Her mind was frozen over. Her whole body was beginning to freeze up. It must have been a couple of days since she last ate a good hot meal. 

She still didn’t know what happened. She had medical experience like no other but she didn’t need it to see that everyone's colour had drained from their faces and she doubted it was the cool. 

Samwell piped up. “You’re bound to be frozen and you’re feeding for two now. How about we get you some broth and bread. It’s not much but Gilly helps make it better. You and she can help each other out. You’re both mothers of a sort huh?” Samwell wasn't the best for conversational topics but he did try. He made women more at ease for some reason that was unclear to every other man in the compound.

“Thank you but first I need to know. What happened to my husband? What happened to my family?” Talisa was not fucking about anymore. She looked like she was about to break. She hadn’t been fed or cleaned in days and she was snapping. Her husband was in trouble and she was thousands of miles away. 

“He’s dead. Everyone is dead.” Jon said. 

Jon was still deep within his grief. He didn’t know how to feel about Robb but he knew right from wrong and what happened at the Frey’s hall was on the far end of his moral scale. Theon was also a loss. He may have been a dick all his life but in those months before everything went tits up his heart had changed overnight. Not enough for Jon to forgive him for years of teasing but he could forgive what he could. 

Talisa refused to believe it at first as she had a small artificial laugh to herself that they must be kidding her. She turned her face away and crossed both hands across her mouth. It had to be a cruel prank on a pregnant woman. 

“I’m serious. They were murdered.” Jon said again. For the next fifty years he wouldn’t wish to recall the noise that came out of her next.

She sunk down to her knees and let a cry roaring through the wall. All men heard it and all men felt her sorrow. It was a widow's wail. She had just lost the one man she had truly fallen in love with and she hadn’t even been there when he died. Her child would be fatherless. She would be husbandless. She had lost everything. 

She wailed again. She clutched at her heart and held her stomach as she fell down. 

Gilly tried to help her up. She would know this feeling for whenever one of her own sisters was to lose a baby to the white walkers. Grief was a strong emotion and especially when carrying a child. Sam knew this news wasn’t good for the baby and she couldn’t stay in this state in this place or she would die. 

Gilly took her by the arm and helped her up though she wasn’t very interested in moving. All Talisa wanted to do was curl up on the snow covered ground and pray that the gods had bestowed upon her some deviant nightmare. Or perhaps this was a fever dream caused by her blooming baby boy. 

“I need time alone.”

“Surely you should ha-”

“I need time alone! Theon could have saved Robb but he saved me instead. Why would he do that?!” She was quick to turn to Jon with anger in her eyes. She let out another antagonized scream as she tried to get up and mourn her loss. 

Robb had died. 

She had lived. 

Jon could only watch as she was taken away from the court yard to the kitchen. Her screaming didn’t stop that night and Jon would mark it down as one of the worst nights he’d ever had the pleasure of experiencing. 

-

Theon had woken up back in the god’s halls. His wound wasn't bleeding despite how much Roose had wanted him to die from it. Each god had a pleasant smile on their faces. The feminine gods made their smiles as wide as possible while the masculine gods were content with their proud little smirks. 

The halls was illumined in bright lights. The mood for celebration was adrift in the air. 

“I’m back.” He announced. His clothes were no longer bloody but fresh as though they were freshly washed. 

The Father was the first to speak among them. “You did well boy. You should be proud of yourself.”

“I am. I feel so much better knowing now what I know.” Theon’s voice was changed. His tone as jovial as before everything that ever happened. As if Ramsay had never even touched him. He thought only off Robb. His one true love. Relief. The feeling was almost foreign to him. 

He could feel like he was final relieved. He didn’t have to worry about anything anymore. Just how to spend his days in the seven heavens.

Jeyne. If the gods were truly the gods then he knew that he would never get to see her again. Then again the saying went that the gods worked in mysterious ways. Still when all was said and done he’d remember her and hope that she and her Theon were sitting on a beach somewhere eating a picnic with a child they would call their own. 

“Have you made your final decision? The father asked. He’d seen him working during this life and though he’d had a few close calls ultimately he’d done better this time around and was worthy of being granted into the heavens. This was what all the gods had been waiting for. Whether he had chosen to be with his sister or his lover. 

“Yes. I know where I want to go.” He didn’t have to think twice about what he was going to do. His choice had been made before he even reached the god’s halls. A decision that was clouded in fog before was now as clear and smooth as glass. 

Before Theon stood two doors. One with the symbol of the seven on it while the other had a mighty kraken upon it. He placed a hand on the Kraken door. It was made of Salt wood, the texture was rough and the colour was darkened. Much like Yara it could withstand at a lot of damage. Yara was probably running the iron islands by now. Theon had learned how much she cared this time. It was more than he thought. 

Theon loved Yara. He loved his sister like nothing else in the world but after being with both sides he knew that Robb was someone he couldn’t abandon his love. He’d gone through a lot the second time but he was glad he did it. Robb did love him. He was giving up a lot but it was worth it. As long as Robb was still willing to love him then he could live on in the seven god’s heavens. He was sure his mother would understand. As long as the rest of their family was there then his mother would be fine. Her baby boys at her side. 

He then felt the Stark door. A familiar warmth filled him. His childhood in Winterfell. The relief of being back in his home in the wolf fur and the sweet coldness of the snow that seemed to clean his wounds. 

Sweet, sweet Robb was waiting for him beyond the door. His Robb. His auburn prince. Robb who had admitted he loved him. Robb whom he had given one final kiss before they were both engulfed by death. 

The drowned god seemed disappointed in the young man. In this world he’d shown Theon a part of Yara he never thought he’d seen before. The Yara that was the older sister he’d always hoped for. He supposed that pirates such as themselves often looked for what the heart desires and if it was Theon was set on it would be foolish of him not to pursue it. 

He glanced around the room one last time. They were all nodding for him to enter. He was nervous about his future but this time it seemed a good type of nervous. 

He placed his hand on the handle and pushed down. 

He was home. 

 

“What took you so long?” Robb asked.

 

He saw many ghosts but only one ghost who mattered.


End file.
